LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFST    OF" 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No. 5^& &0       Class  No._ 


THE 


PRECIOUS    STONES 


OF   THE 


HEAVENLY    FOUNDATIONS. 


BY 

AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GARRETT 
i« 

AUTHOR    OF    MUSICAL     COMPOSITIONS,    "HAMILTON     THE     YOUNG 
ARTIST,"  ETC.  ETC. 


"And  the  foundations  of  the  wall  of  the  city  were  garnished  with  all 
manner  of  precious  stones." 


NEW     YORK: 

&      C  O  M  IP  A  INT  Y . 

1859. 


ENTERED  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by 
SHELDON   &   COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  lor  the  Southern  District  of 
.     New  York. 


W.  H.  TiJisou,  Stereotyper 


PUDNBY  &  RUSSKIA,  Printers. 


ONE    ASLEEP, 
INT    HOLIES    OF    A.    JOYFUL     REUNION 

IN  THE 

GREAT     DAY     OF     AWAKING, 


THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  City  of  Delight  (Music). 

Introduction. 

Precious  Stones  of  the  Heavenly  Foundations, 13 

CORNER  STONE, 20 

God, 26 

The  Gracious  Invitation, 28 

The  Goodly  Mansion, 80 

JASPER  :— Divine  Mystery, 81 

Trust  in  God, 35 

Why  am  I  sent  here  ? 87 

Here  and  There, 39 

Divine  Mysteries, 42 

"Whispers  of  the  Watching  Spirit, 44 

Dream  of  Dr.  Doddridge, 47 

To  my  Soul, .52 

What  makes  the  Soul  so  Valuable? 54 

SAPPHIRE  : — Heavenly-mindedness, 55 

Pilgrimage, 51 

The  Heavenly  Temple, 61 

The  Departed  One, 63 

The  Reasons  for  being  Holy, 65 

Thoughts  of  Heaven, 66 

The  New  Jerusalem, 68 

Heaven, ...  69 

vii 


v  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

CHALCEDONY  :— Royal  Dominion, 72 

The  Beatific  Vision, 76 

The  Pleasures  of  the  Redeemed, 80 

The  Heavenly  Choir, 82 

The  Light,  the  Way,  and  the  Truth, 85 

Royal  Dominion  of  Christ, 86 

EMERALD  :— Refreshing  Light, 89 

The  Blest  Realities, 93 

The  Vision  of  the  Dying, 95 

The  Better  Land, '97 

The  Forest  Funeral, 99 

The  Land  which  no  Mortal  may  Know, 102 

Longing  for  the  Heavenly  City, 104 

Martyr's  Requiem, 106 

Preparation  for  Death, 108 

SARDONYX  :— Love, 109 

Reply  of  the  Messenger  Bird, 118 

Recognition  in  Heaven,   ..........  116 

A  Voice  from  Heaven, 117 

That  one  Single  Verse, 119 

The  Loved  and  Gone, 120 

Love  Divine, 123 

The  Star  of  Love, •          124 

The  Grandeur  of  Praise, 125 

A  Thought  of  the  Departed, 128 

SARDIUS: — Humility, • 183 

Only  Waiting, 187 

How  to  be  Happy, 189 

Longings  for  Home, 144 

The  Blessed  Home, I48 

Pilgrim's  Farewell  to  the  World, 145 

Heaven  a  Refuge  for  the  Unsuccessful  of  Earth, 147 

Reverie  in  a  Forest  of  North  Carolina, 148 

Simplicity  of  Faith, 150 

The  New  Jerusalem, 1^1 


CONTENTS.  ix 

PAGE 

CHRYSOLITE  :— Truth, 153 

The  Truth  of  God, 157 

Solemn  Scenes  that  will  Come, 161 

Fading, 163 

The  Way  to  Heaven, 165 

Death-Bed  of  Rutherford, 167 

BEKTL  : — Knowledge, 172 

The  Pagan  Questioning  Death, 176 

The  Departed  Soul, 178 

Bacon,  the  Sculptor, 179 

There  shall  be  no  Night  there, 180 

Visions  of  Eternity, 183 

Ccelum  et  Terra, 185 

The  Life  to  Come, 188 

TOPAZ  : — Clemency, 192 

Abide  with  Me, 197 

A  Trophy, 199 

The  Land  of  Calm  Delight,      .        .      • 201 

Let  Me  go  Home, 203 

Dies  Iras,  Dies  Ilia,  205 

Resting  in  Mercy, 208 

Dreams  of  Heaven, 209 

CHBTSOPRASUS  :— Prosperity, 211 

The  Verge  of  Jordan, 215 

The  Moment  after  Death, 218 

My  Home  is  not  on  Earth, 219 

The  Better  Country, 221 

Beyond  the  River, 222 

Prosperity  and  Adversity, 224 

The  Painter's  Last  Rest,  . 225 

Gone,  but  not  Lost, 228 

The  Christian  Mourner's  Prospect, 232 

JACINTH  :— Victory, 234 

More  than  Conquerors, 238 

The  Dying  Boy, .  240 


X  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

JACINTH  :— The  Meeting-Place, 242 

Last  Moments  of  John  Knox, 246 

A  little  While,  .        .        .      ..     '..      ,,.•..%./••    •        •        •  24? 
Hail,  Ye  Happy  Spirits ! 249 

AMETHEST  : — Immortal  Joy, 250 

The  Land  Far  Away, 256 

Present  Sufferings  and  Future  Joy, 259 

The  Heavenly  River, 260 

The  Blessed  Country, .        .263 

Let  me  Go,  for  the  Day  Breaketh, 265 

"  We  All  will  meet  again," 26T 

Heavenly  Employ, 268 

Visions  of  Heaven, 271 

An  Artist's  Farewell  to  Time, 276 

Trinity  Chimes, 280 

Visions  in  Twilight  (In  Memoriam), 281 

The  Grave  (From  the  German), 292 

Reveries  in  Starlight,          .  .        .  296 

Springs  of  Association, 309 

Jerusalem,  My  Happy  Home— The  Ancient  Poem, 323 

Come,  Lord  Jesus  ! 828 


g  of  De%M. 


Music   by  the  late    JOHX    WALTER    B.    GARRETT. 

VTORDS   BY   ST.   AUGUSTINE.  ARRANGED   BY   A.   B.   G. 


Con  Molta 
Tenerezza. 


%*: 


1   Win  -  ter     bram  -  ing, 


—t —Si- ^Qp_.jffutp ^ _L_ 

^^^^^,^^^^^^3E3^^ 


sum  -  mer     flam-ing,     There  re  -    lax  their     blus  -  ter  -   ing  ; 


And    sweet  ro   -    ses       ev  -   er      bloom-ing,    Make  an      ev    -      er- 


Xll 


THE    CITY     OF    DELIGHT. 


And    the       bal  -  sam       per  -  fum  -  ing 


2  There  nor  waxing  moon,  nor  waning 

Sun,  nor  stars  in  courses  bright ; 
For  the  Lamb  to  that  glad  city, 

Shines  an  everlasting  light : 
There  the  daylight  beams  for  ever, 

All  unknown  are  time  and  night. 

3  For  the  saints  in  beauty  beaming, 

Shine  in  light  and  glory  pure, 
Crown'd  in  triumph's  flushing  honors, 

Joy  in  unison  secure  ; 
And  in  safety  tell  their  battles, 

And  their  foes'  discomfiture, 

4  Here  they  live  in  endless  being, 

Passingness  has  passed  away  ; 
Here  they  bloom,  they  thrive,  they  flourish, 

For  decayed  is  all  decay  ; 
Lasting  energy  hath  swallowed 

Darkling  death's  malignant  sway. 


ir  0  fctti  tiff  ft. 


S  an  heir,  pressing  earnestly  onward  to  take  possession  of 
his  newly-acquired  demesne  in  a  far-off  country,  not  only 
frequently  consults  his  chart  in  order  to  ascertain  the 
safer  and  more  expeditious  way  thither,  but  also  assidu 
ously  seeks  to  inform  himself  concerning  the  estate  itself, 
of  its  situation,  its  advantages,  its  comforts,  and  its 
beauties; — so,  a  religious  inquiry  into  the  momentous  future 
•whither  we  are  all  journey ers,  is  the  most  rational  of  all  pursuits, 
and  always  beneficial ;  for,  the  more  the  mind  is  abstracted  from 
earthly,  and  fixed  on  divine  things,  the  better  will  it  be  fitted  for 
entering  upon  the  Inheritance  of  the  Saints  in  Light. 

God  is  a  God  of  Beauty,  of  Grandeur,  and  of  Order.  The  love 
liness  of  this  world,  blemished  as  it  is  by  sin,  fully  evidences  that ; 
and  no  student  of  Scripture  is  there  who  can  fail  to  perceive  that 
the  allusions  to  beauty  throughout  it  are  innumerable.  We  are  too 
much  disposed,  in  this  state  of  trial,  to  view  Heaven  in  it  saspect  of 
negative  happiness — as  a  place  of  exemption  from  pain,  from  death, 
from  curse,  from  sorrow.  Nor  at  this,  indeed,  can  we  much  won 
der.  A  person  in  abject  misery  takes  little  pleasure  in  the  fairest 
flowers  or  gems  ;  doubtless  Lazarus,  could  he  but  anoint  his  sores, 
and  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger,  busied  himself  not  at  all  '.n 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

admiring  the  decorations  and  braveries  that  environed  the  rich 
man  ;  but,  all  such  woes  surmounted,  endless  felicity  in  near  pros 
pect,  and  a  home  of  unchanging  prosperity  assured,  why,  why  should 
not  its  fortunate  heirs  enter,  by  faith,  and  with  an  avidity  irrepress 
ible,  upon  a  critical  survey  of  its  peculiar  beauties  and  glories? 
Alas,  for  us !  we  dwell  too  much  among  the  tombs ;  mayhap,  bemoan 
ing  those  who  the  while  are  exulting  in  the  open  vision  of  the 
adorable  Trinity.  Not  perceiving  through  the  mist  of  tears  the 
immortal  crown  held  out  to  us,  we  shroud  our  brows  with  a  funereal 
chaplet  of  cypress  and  yew!  Happy  were  we  could  we  become 
adepts  in  Paul's  arithmetic,  and  adopt  his  estimate  of  the  relative 
value  of  earthly  and  heavenly  things:  "  For  I  reckon  that  the  suf 
ferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the 
glory  which  shall  be  revealed  in  us !" 

From  the  deepest  shades  of  sorrow,  I  have  looked  upward  for 
some  consoling  object  of  contemplation — some  subject,  which,  by 
abstracting  my  thoughts  from  a  fresh-made  grave,  might  serve  to 
alleviate  some  of  the  melancholy  seasons  of  bereavement  and  soli 
tude.  And  thus,  surrounded  by  mementoes  of  the  loved  and 
severed,  and  listening  the  meanwhile  to  the  blasts  of  autumn,  and 
the  muffled  wail  of  the  sere  foliage  as  it  drops  fluttering  to  the 
ground,  reminding  me  that  "we  do  all  fade  as  a  leaf,"  this  little 
volume  has  been  designed  and  completed.  It  is  now  dismissed  with 
the  prayer  that  it  may  be  the  favored  medium  of  calming  the  tem 
pest  in  some  troubled  minds,  of  casting  into  some  stricken  hearts 
the  consoling  rays  of  peace,  and  resignation,  and  hope,  and  of  lifting 
the  soul  to  Him,  who 

"  Shows,  beyond  these  mortal  shores, 
A  bright  inheritance  as  ours  ; 
Where  saints  in  light  our  coming  wait 
To  share  their  holy,  happy  state." 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

The  subject  of  the  ensuing  pages — a  series  of  reflections  on  some 
of  the  figurative  external  beauties  of  the  Heavenly  City,  is,  it  is 
believed,  in  its  views  and  treatment,  original.  There  are  brief 
dissertations  on  the  twelve  precious  stones  which,  engraven  with 
the  names  of  the  Holy  Apostles,  garnish  the  Foundations  of  Heaven, 
with  the  significations  which  seem  most  appropriate  to  each,  and 
relative  texts  of  Scripture.  Associated  with  every  stone  are  a  few 
precious  gems  of  human  thought  in  lingual  setting,  generally  simi 
lar  in  character.  They  consist  of  both  prose  and  poetry,  and  with 
two  or  three  exceptions,  have  exclusive  reference  to  the  future  life. 
Some  of  them  are  extracts  from  eminent  authors,  but  a  majority 
are  beautiful  waifs  which  have  been  gathered  while  floating  by  on 
the  current.  With  these  are  interspersed  a  few  original  poems  and 
reflections. 

It  is  a  source  of  regret  that  the  names  of  the  authors  of  the 
extracts  could  not  always  be  ascertained.  Such  omissions,  will  not, 
it  is  hoped,  be  attributed  to  a  spirit  of  literary  injustice,  which  is 
ever  seriously  to  be  deprecated,  but  to  a  lack  of  the  requisite 

information. 

A.  B.  G. 

BROOKLYN,  Dec.  20^,  1853. 


c  • 


t  mttww 


OF   THE 


HEAYENLY    FOUNDATIONS 


ORGEOTJS  as  is  the  imagery  employed  by 
the  inspired  apostle  in  his  description  of  the 
great  city,  the  Holy  Jerusalem ; — of  its 
twelve  gates  of  orient  pearl ;  its  wall  great 
and  high,  and  its  refulgent  foundations  ;  its 
street  of  pure  transparent  gold ;  its  crystal  river, 
and  its  tree  of  Life — it  yet  falls  infinitely  short  of 
the  reality.  Human  language  is  utterly  inadequate 
to  portray  even  a  faint  similitude  of  the  ineffable 
delights  of  the  Divine  Abode.  Through  the  rain- 
bow-hued  radiancy  of  twelve  of  the  most  famous 
gems,  Saint  John  essays  to  picture  to  us  the  blaze 
of  glory  and  diversified  beauty  that  girds  it 


14:  THE    PRECIOUS    STONES 

round  about ;  and  by  the  silver  river  gliding  with 
melodious  murmur  between  enamelled  meads,  and 
the  tree  hung  with  twelve  manner  of  delicious 
fruits,  and  with  leaves  for  the  healing  of  the 
nations,  to  offer  us  a  foretaste  of  the  delectable 
banquet  prepared  for  the  white-robed  multitude 
who  tread  the  shining  avenues.  But,  ah !  though 
glowing  his  figures,  and  spirit-stirring  his  words,  it 
as  much  transcends  the  power  of  mortal  language 
to  convey,  as  of  human  thought  to  entertain,  con 
ceptions  so  vast ;  for  "  eye  hath  not  seen,  neither 
ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  to  conceive  what  the  Lord  hath  prepared  for 
them  who  love  him."  In  vain  do  we,  amid  the 
flickerings  of  celestial  light  John  affords  us,  and 
inspired  by  hope,  strive  to  upward  soar  and  catch 
a  faint  echo  of  the  preludes  of  those  golden  harps, 
and  a  strain  of  those  thrilling  voices  chanting  the 
new  song  ; — in  vain  ;  imagination  hath  but  leaden 
wings  for  such  a  flight.  Yet  when  we  read  the 
vision  of  the  beloved  apostle,  and  ponder  over  the 
glimpses  therein  revealed  of  future  bliss,  even  at 
the  partial  transcription,  our  hearts  must  bound, 
our  spirits  must  kindle  with  joy. 

Precious  stones  are  frequently  employed  in  Scrip 
ture  to  represent   splendor  and  vivid  beauty   of 


OF  THE  HEAVENLY  FOUNDATIONS.        15 

color,  as  in  Isaiali  liv.  and  Ezekiel  xxviii.  ;  but  in 
two  especial  instances  they  are  marshalled  in  con 
stellations  of  peculiar  grandeur.  The  first  occurs 
in  the  Breast-Plate  of  the  high  priest,  a  jewel  made 
by  direction  of  Moses  under  the  immediate  super 
vision  of  the  Almighty  himself,  and  which  was  to 
be  worn  by  Aaron  and  his  successors  while  minis 
tering  in  sacred  worship.  The  second  is  on  the 
foundations  of  the  holy  city,  as  set  forth  in  the 
twenty-first  chapter  of  Eevelation.  In  each  case 
the  number  and  kind  of  gems  are  very  nearly,  if 
not  altogether,  the  same — the  order  of  arrangement 
only  varies.  On  the  Breast-Plate  the  stones  were 
engraven  or  sealed  with  the  names  of  the  twelve 
patriarchs,  the  sons  of  Jacob,  in  the  order  of  their 
birth.  In  relation  to  the  order  of  the  names  011  the 
Breast-Plate,  Jewish  doctors  of  the  Law,  and  Com 
mentators  differ.  The  Kabbins,  and  various  other 
writers  on  the  subject  down  to  our  own  day,  con 
cur  in  the  opinion  that  first  were  mentioned  the  six 
sons  of  Leah  ;  next  the  two  of  Bilhah  ;  next  the  two 
of  Zilpah,  and  las-t  of  all  the  two  of  Eachel.  But 
Josephus,  who,  himself  a  priest,  ought  surely  to  be 
an  able  authority  for  everything  appertaining  to  the 
Hebrew  law  ;  Prideaux,  Jerome,  and  others,  decide 
on  placing  them  according  to  their  ages.  Which 


16  THE   PKECIOUS   STONES 

is  the  more  correct,  I,  of  course,  have  no  means  of 
ascertaining.  At  this  remote  period,  however,  it 
seems  not  to  be  a  matter  of  sufficient  moment — not 
involving  vital  truth — for  controversy  or  earnest 
speculation.  The  subject  is  here  adverted  to 
because  that  throughout  the  ensuing  pages,  allusion 
is  occasionally  made  to  the  names  on  the  Breast- 
Plate.  On  the  Foundations  the  gems  were  engraven 
with  the  names  of  the  twelve  Apostles  in  the  order 
of  their  calling ;  from  which  they  are  designated 
by  mineralogists  the  "Apostle  Gems."  "Without 
presuming  to  indulge  in  frivolous  or  idle  conjecture 
regarding  such  a  remarkable  coincidence,  we  may, 
nevertheless,  be  permitted  a  certain  latitude  of 
imaginativeness.  "With  a  view  of  ascertaining  what 
poetical  significations,  if  any,  may  perchance  apper 
tain  to  these  grouped  "  Stones  of  Fire,"  and  being 
furthermore  desirous  of  establishing  analogies  be 
tween  such  characteristics,  and  the  histories  of 
those  whose  names  they  memorialize,  many  com 
mentators  and  other  authorities  have  been  con 
sulted,  and  with  but  very  limited  success.  Calmet, 
perhaps  as  reliable  authority  as  any,  affirms  that 
the  Hebrews  themselves  are  ignorant  of  the  true 
significations  of  their  precious  stones ;  and  we  can 
not,  with  any  degree  of  certainty,  rely  upon  the 


OF  THE  HEAVENLY  FOUNDATIONS.        IT 

Egyptians,  from  whom  they  derived  the  names  of 
them,  or  on  other  heathen  authors  of  antiquity. 

Every  one  is  aware  that  to  attempt  to  strictly  lite- 
ralize  this  most  mystical  of  books,  the  Apoca 
lypse — would  be  but  arrogance  and  folly,  for 
spiritual  things  are  to  be  spiritually  discerned ;  but 
can  there  be  any  impropriety  in  pursuing  a  train 
of  thought  which  has  been  opened  by  inspiration, 
and  which  has  a  tendency  to  call  off  the  mind  from 
the  baubles  of  earth  and  fix  it  upon  the  permanent 
glories  of  Heaven  ?  I  trow  not.  As  to  the  man 
ner  in  which  the  Foundations  are  garnished  with 
precious  stones,  writers  differ,  Adam  Clarke,  in 
whom,  certainly,  the  poetic  element  did  not  pre 
dominate — supposes  that  each  stone,  engraven  with 
the  name  of  an  apostle,  was  placed  merely  as  a 
threshold  to  each  gate.  Others  incline  to  the 
opinion  that  the  walls  were  inlaid  all  around. 
Twelve  stones  would  seem  to  be  but  meagre  gar 
nishing  for  such  a  structure.  Is  not  the  figure  more 
likely  intended  to  imply  that  each  gem,  or  multipli 
cations  of  it,  extended  all  around  the  walls  ;  and  as 
the  name  of  the  progenitor  of  each  tribe  was 
inscribed  above  the  gates,  might  not  that  of  each 
apostle  be  inscribed  beneath  ? 

The  fame  of  the  Priestly  Breast-Plate,  both  for 


18 


THE    PRECIOUS    STONES 


its   costly  magnificence,  and  for  the  supernatural 
blaze   of  glory  which   emanated   from   it,  having 
spread  among  the  outside  nations,  who  were  ever 
keenly  observant  of  the  doings  of  the  chosen  peo 
ple,  the  priests  of  heathen  temples  were  induced 
to  attempt  various  imitations  of  it,  not  comprehend 
ing  its  sacred  import.   They  wore  images  and  neck 
laces    of   gems,  hoping  by  these  apish  devices  to 
secure  the  popular   confidence.      Alcander,  in  his 
heliacal  table,  says  that  they  pictured  Apollo  with 
a  diadem  of  twelve  precious  stones;  and  another 
writer  applied  the   sacred  cluster  of  gems  to  the 
sun,  affixing  three  to  each  quarter  of  the  year.     In 
the  days  of  Pliny,  gems  were  endowed  with  mar 
vellous  powers,  and  miracles  of  the  most  prodigious 
nature   were    rumored   to    be  performed   through 
their    agency.      Amulets,    or   talismans,    of  gems, 
inscribed   with   cabalistic   characters,   were    worn, 
which  were  believed  to  bestow  upon  the  fortunate 
possessor  health,  beauty,  glory,  and  wealth. 

Precious  stones  are  indeed  among  the  loveliest 
products  of  creation ;  from  their  resplendence  and 
richness  of  colors,  they  may  be  called  imperishable 
flowers.  The  whole  symbolic  mythology  of  Egypt 
was  transcribed  upon  hard  stones  of  almost  every 
description,  such  being  the  most  secure  method  of 


OF  THE  HEAVENLY  FOUNDATIONS.        19 

preserving  their  ideas  and  doctrines.  There  is  a 
Jewish  tradition  that  Solomon  engraved  the  Tetra~ 
grammaton,  or  adorable  name  of  Jehovah,  upon  the 
foundation  stone  of  the  Temple. 

For  the  poetical  sentiments  annexed  to  precious 
stones,  in  these  pages,  I  am  guided,  in  no  small 
measure,  by  a  rare  old  volume,  "  Solomon's  Temple 
Spiritualized,"  by  one  Christopher  Kelly.  It  is  a 
treatise  which  abounds  in  original  conceits  and  pro 
found  research  into  sacred  ordinances  and  cere 
monials.  The  mass  of  authorities  whom  he  quotes 
appears  almost  incredible  ;  probably  no  writer  upon 
sacred  lore,  ancient  or  modern,  down  to  the  end  of 
the  last  century,  has  escaped  his  notice  ;  and  having 
candidly  weighed  all  their  several  opinions,  he  gives 
the  result.  Certain  it  is  that  no  two  translators 
from  the  Seventy  down,  agree  in  their  descriptions 
or  renderings  of  the  precious  stones :  but,  after  all, 
being  but  vehicles  of  spiritual  beauty,  it  is  not  essen 
tial  that  we  should  know  their  precise  tints  and 
qualities. 

Oftimes  the  gems  themselves  suggest  their  signi 
fications,  as,  the  blue  sapphire,  Heavenly-minded- 
ness  ;  the  green  emerald,  Eefreshing-light ;  the 
brilliant  carbuncle,  Royal-dominion :  and  again, 
they  are  deduced  from  a  study  of  the  characters 


20 


THE    PRECIOUS    STONES. 


and  careers  of  the  patriarchs  and  their  descendants, 
and  of  the  holy  apostles.  Serious  meditations  these 
profess  but  to  be,  with  no  pretensions  whatever  to 
profundity  or  infallibility ;  for,  the  precious  stones 
may  be  only  designed  to  represent  by  their  beauty, 
arrangement,  and  diversity,  the  harmonious  blend 
ing  and  variety  of  divine  graces  in  the  soul  formed 
anew  after  the  image  of  Christ; 

"  And  the  wall  of  the  city  had  twelve  founda 
tions,  and  in  them  the  names  of  the  twelve  apostles 
of  the  Lamb." 

The  First  Foundation  was : — 


PETER,   .... 

Jasper, 

.     .    Divine-mystery>£-  —  " 

ANDREW,    .     .     . 

Sapphire, 

.     .   Heavenly-mindedness. 

JAMES,  .... 

Chalcedony, 

.     .    Royal-dominion.     t~~~ 

JOHN,     .... 

Emerald, 

.     .    Refreshing-light.    L^ 

PHILIP,      .     .     . 

Sardonyx, 

.     .    Love.     L^- 

BARTHOLOMEW,   . 

Sardine, 

.     .    Humility.      ^ 

MATTHEW,       .     .  * 

Chrysolite,    . 

.     .    Truth.         i^< 

THOMAS,     .     .     . 

Beryl,       .     . 

.     .    Knowledge.     ^""" 

JAMES-THE-LESS, 

Topaz,      .     . 

.     .    Mercy.        £^X 

JUDE,  .... 

Chrysoprosus, 

.     .    Prosperity.      l/^ 

SIMON,       .     .     . 

Jacinth,    . 

.     .    Victory. 

MATTHIAS,     .     . 

Amethyst, 

.     .    Immortal  Joy. 

Of  this  marvellous  structure  Jesus  Christ  himself 
is  the  Corner-Stone.  A.  B.  G. 


®fce  few 

Jesns  Christ.  Salvation. 

"  Behold  I  lay  in  Zion  for  a  foundation,  a  stone,  a  tried  stone,  a 
precious  corner  stone,?a  sure  foundation." 

i HE  figure  of  a  Eock  or  Stone  is  repeatedly 
employed  throughout  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
whenever  it  is  requisite  to  express  vast 
strength,  indestructibility,  or  firmness.  "We 
can  conceive  of  no  more  forcible  symbol  of 
durability  than  a  massive,  mighty  rock,  which  has 
withstood  the  shocks  of  the  fierce  tornado,  and  the 
corroding  influences  of  centuries.  And  hence  is  God 
the  Son  often,  both  by  the  inspired  writers  and  by 
himself,  likened  unto  one,  because  He  has  endured 
unscathed  the  brunt  of  ages,  and  stood  immovable 
against  the  terrible  threefold  ordeal  of  Heaven,  of 
Earth,  and  of  Hell.  He  suffered  the  righteous  in 
dignation  of  Heaven  for  the  accumulated  sins  of  the 
whole  world  which  He  had  voluntarily  assumed ; 
He  endured  the  ingratitude  and  malice  of  foolish 

21 


22  THE    CORNER-STONE. 

Men  who  disowned  their  Deliverer  from  wrath 
divine ;  and  He  met  undaunted  the  demoniac  fury 
of  Hell  with  its  legions  of  myrmidons,  crushed  its 
power  forever,  sheltered  within  His  cleft  side  its 
longed-for  prey,  and  triumphed  gloriously  over  all, 
the  Mighty  Conqueror! 

But  He,  the  Saviour,  is  more  frequently  alluded 
to  under  the  metaphor  of  a  corner-stone — the  most 
essential  prop  or  pillar  of  a  building.  Christ,  as  the 
corner-stone  of  His  Church,  is  not  only  a  solid  block 
of  living-stone  at  the  base  of  the  structure  ;  He  is 
incorporated  with  it,  and  arising  with  it,  stands 
exalted  in  towering  glory  at  the  head  of  the  corner ; 
and  from  the  very  summit  of  the  edifice,  issues  His 
loving  summons :  "  Ho !  every  one  that  thirsteth, 
come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath  no  money ; 
come  ye,  buy,  and  eat;  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk 
without  money,  and  without  price  !"  Thus  is  it  He 
becomes  "  the  head  of  the  body,  the  Church." 

"  He  is  called  (says  Kelly),  a  precious  stone,  by  a 
metaphor  taken  from  gems  and  stones  of  great 
value.  Ten  thousand  times  more  precious  than 
that  natural  diamond  rock  on  which  an  ancient 
castle  once  in  England  stood — now  in  deplorable 
ruins ;  whereas  this  Kock  of  Ages  shall  never  be 
hold  corruption :  more  precious,  indeed !  as  being 


THE   CORNER-STONE.  23 

of  a  supernatural  essence,  and  cut  out  of  the  moun 
tain  of  eternity,  without  hands,  in  respect  of  His 
divine  nature,  which  is  free  from  the  least  shadow 
of  a  flaw,  or  any  tincture  of  blemish — shining  most 
oriently  with  all  the  sparklings  of  divine  perfec 
tions.  Precious  is  this  stone  on  account  of  its 
admirable  qualities,  and  most  efficacious  virtues, 
infinitely  beyond  the  force  and  power  of  the  famous 
hcematites,  for  staunching  the  bleeding  wounds  of 
our  souls,  which  would  have  bled  to  death  through 
the  gashes  received  in  Paradise,  had  not  virtue 
issued  from  Christ  for  their  restraint.  Beyond  the 
fiery  carbuncle  in  resisting  the  flames  of  His  Father's 
wrath,  that  are  ready  to  devour  the  vital  spirits  of 
wretched  sinners,  who  dare  presume  to  draw  nigh 
to  this  consuming  fire  without  Christ,  or  converse 
with  such  everlasting  burnings.  Beyond  the  attrac 
tive  virtue  of  the  magnetical  stone  in  the  drawing 
of  souls  after  Him,  and  alluring  them  into  union 
and  communion  with  himself.  Nay,  more  pre 
cious  than  the  impenetrable  adamant,  whereof  some 
ancients  report  such  a  quality  to  be  inherent  in  it 
that  those  who  carry  it  about  them,  shall  prove 
valiant  in  fight  and  unconquerable  in  their  enter 
prises.  Thus  we  are  made  more  than  conquerors 
through  Him  that  loved  us,  by  whose  means  it  is 


24  THE  CORNER-STONE. 

that  we  receive  the  victory,  when  fighting  under 
the  banner  of  this  heavenly  Achilles,  who,  being 
himself  animated  with  a  more  precious  unction 
than  his,  of  ambrosia  from  above,  is  in  every  part 
invulnerable,  except  His  heel,  which  for  awhile  is 
bruised  in  His  poor  members  militant  upon  the 
earth,  till  all  His  enemies  be  subdued  under  His 
feet  in  the  behalf  of  His  dear  church. 

"  Besides,  He  is  a  most  precious  stone,  by  reason 
of  His  incomparable  rarity ;  there  being  but  one 
of  this  nature  found  in  the  whole  world.  "Who 
would  not  turn  a  spiritual  merchant,  and  selling  all 
that  he  hath,  endeavor  to  purchase  this  inestimable 
treasure  ?  This  is  that  stone,  says  holy  Peter,  on 
which  only  our  salvation  resteth.  There  being  no 
other  name  under  heaven  given  among  men, 
whereby  we  must  be  saved,  than  that  new  name 
engraven  on  this  white  stone,  the  Lord  our  Right 
eousness.  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only 
sun,  which,  by  His  bright  and  fulgent  rays,  dispels 
the  darkness  of  the  chambers  of  death,  and  of  the 
bottomless  pit.  He  is  the  only  Phoenix,  out  of 
whose  perfumed  ashes  doth  arise  the  curiously 
plumed  progeny  of  the  church,  whose  wings  are 
covered  with  silver,  and  her  feathers  with  yellow 
gold.  This  is  the  only  stone,  the  Kock  of  Ages  so  pre- 


THE   COKNER-STONE.  25 

cious  to  them  that  believe,  on  which  alone  our  feet 
can  be  steadily  fixed,  that  our  goings  may  be  estab 
lished." 

Imperial  Rock  of  Ages !  on  whom  no  tempest- 
tossed  voyager  ever  suffered  shipwreck  ;  trusting  in 
whom  none  ever  was  disappointed  ;  and  clinging  to 
whom  none  ever  perished!  Evermore  be  Thou 
our  sure  refuge  and  our  secure  hiding-place  ! 

A.  B.  G. 


26  THE   COENEK-ST01JE. 


•  ft. 

OLIEST  of  holies !    Thou  art  God  alone, 
On  Thy  all-glorious,  everlasting  throne  ! 
Thou,  Kock  of  Ages,  dost  the  same  abide, 
While  our  durations  by  short  minutes  glide  ; 
Thy  wondrous  works  Thy  mighty  power  de 
clare, 

Which  yet  faint  sketches  of  Thy  glory  are. 

Thy  majesty  ten  thousand  suns  outvies, 

A  sight  too  radiant  for  the  seraph's  eyes. 

Thy  Deity,  uncircumscribed  by  place, 

Fills  heaven,  and  earth,  and  extra  mundane  space  ; 

Above  all  change  unchangeably  abides, 

And,  as  it  pleases,  casual  changes  guides. 

Thou  present  art  in  this  terrestrial  sphere — 

Where'er  we  fly  or  hide,  Thou  still  art  near ; 

Thou  present  art  when  sinners  dare  thy  stroke ; 

Thou  present  art  when  saints  Thine  aid  invoke. 

Thou,  in  all  sin's  recesses,  dost  survey 

Pollution  with  an  unpolluted  ray ; 

Thou  present  art  all  creatures  to  sustain, 


THE   CORNER-STONE.  27 

And  influence  Thine  universal  reign. 

Thou  in  the  temple  of  the  world  dost  dwell, 

All  blessings  to  confer,  all  ills  repel ; 

Benign,  or  dreadful,  Thou  still  present  art, 

In  every  saint,  in  every  sinner's  heart. 

Thy  saints  there,  for  thy  Godhead,  temples  build, 

Which  with  Thy  gracious  Shechinah  are  filled  ; 

And  from  Thy  presence  sinners  feel  within, 

Anticipation  of  wrath  due  to  sin. 

Thou  Searcher  of  my  heart!  my  heart  possess, 

Thine  own  idea  deeply  there  impress. 

Oh  purify  me,  Lord  !  as  Thou  art  pure; 

From  the  polluting  world,  my  soul  secure  ; 

Thine  image  reengrave:  to  copy  Thee 

Is  my  chief  prayer— shall  my  ambition  be. 


28  THE    CORNER-STONE. 


fire   terns 

"  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest." 

EACIOUS  "  word  "  of  a  gracious  Saviour, 
on  which  the  soul  may  confidingly  repose, 
and  be  at  peace  forever !  It  is  a  present 
rest — the  rest  of  grace  as  well  as  the  rest 
of  glory.  Not  only  are  there  signals  of 
peace  hung  out  from  the  walls  of  heaven— the 
lights  of  Home  glimmering  in  the  distance  to  cheer 
our  footsteps ;  but  we  have  the  "shadow"  of  this 
"  great  Eock  "  in  a  present  "  weary  land."  Before 
the  throne  above  is  there  "  the  sea  of  glass,"  with 
out  one  rippling  wave ;  but  there  is  a  haven  even 
on  earth  for  the  tempest-tossed— "  We  which  have 
believed  DO  enter  into  rest." 

Keturn,  then,  unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul !  Let  the 
sweet  cadence  of  this  "  word  of  Jesus "  steal  on 
thee  amid  the  disquietudes  of  earth.  Sheltered  in 
Him,  thou  art  safe  for  time,  safe  for  eternity! 


THE   CORNER-STONE.  29 

There  may  be,  and  will  be,  temporary  tossings, 
fears,  and  misgivings — manifestations  of  inward 
corruption  ;  but  these  will  only  be  like  the  surface- 
Leavings  of  the  ocean,  while  underneath  there  is  a 
deep,  settled  calm.  "  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect 
peace  (lit.  peace,  peace)  whose  mind  is  stayed  on 
Thee."  In  the  world  it  is  care  on  care,  trouble  on 
trouble,  sin  on  sin  ;  but  every  wave  that  breaks  on 
the  believer's  soul  seems  sweetly  to  murmur 
"  Peace,  peace  !" 

And  if  the  foretaste  of  this  rest  be  precious, 
what  must  be  the  glorious  consummation  ? 
Awaking  in  the  morning  of  immortality,  with 
the  unquiet  dream  of  earth  over — faith  lost  in 
sight,  and  hope  in  fruition ; — no  more  any  bias  to 
sin — no  more  latent  principles  of  evil — nothing 
to  disturb  the  spirit's  deep,  everlasting  tranquillity 
— the  trembling  magnet  of  the  heart  reposing, 
where  alone  it  can  confidingly  and  permanently 
rest,  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  Infinite  God. 

From  "  Words  of  Jesus,"  by  Rev.  John  R.  Macduff. 


30  THE   COE1STLR-STONE. 


ONE,  O  only  mansion  ! 

O  Paradise  of  joy  ! 
"Where  tears  are  ever  banish'd, 

And  joys  have  no  alloy ; 
Beside  thy  living  waters 

All  plants  are,  great  and  small — 
The  cedar  of  the  forest, 

The  hyssop  of  the  wall. 
Thy  ageless  walls  are  bonded 

With  amethyst  unpriced, 
The  saints  build  up  its  fabric, 

And  the  corner-stone  is  Christ. 

Thou  hast  no  shore,  fair  ocean  ! 

Thou  hast  no  time,  bright  day ! 
Dear  fountain  of  refreshment 

To  pilgrims  far  away ! 
Upon  the  Rock  of  Ages 

They  raise  thy  holy  power  ; 
Thine  is  the  victor's  laurel, 

And  thine  the  golden  dower. 

From  St.  Bernard's  Poem,  the  "  City  of  God." 


I?eter.  Divine   Mystery. 

"Which  things  the  angels  desire  to  look  into." 

i  HE  JASPER  is  the  precious  stone  of 
the  first  foundation  of  the  Holy  City, 
where  it  is  engraven  with  the  name 
of  Peter.  The  jasper  is  a  semi-trans 
parent  gem,  of  which  there  are  speci 
fied  fifteen  distinct  varieties,  although  the  most 
valuable  is  a  clear  green  with  red  veins.  It  is  fre 
quently  beautifully  and  curiously  variegated  with 
rings,  spots,  and  stripes ;  is  very  hard  in  substance, 
and  is  susceptible  of  a  fine  polish.  Some  translate 
this  stone  sapphire,  and  others,  diamond.  We  read 
in  the  Apocalypse  that,  "He  who  sat  upon  the 
throne  was  to  look  upon,  like  jasper ;"  "  which,"  says 
the  learned  author  to  whom  I  am  chiefly  indebted 
for  these  descriptions  of  gems,  "  signifies  the  stu 
pendous  and  various  excellences  of  the  Divine 
attributes;  and  that  as  this  stone  is  not  transpa- 

81 


32  DIVINE  MYSTERY 

rent,  so  neither  is  it  possible  or  lawful  for  any  mor 
tal  to  dive  into  such  unspeakable  mysteries*" 
DIVINE  MYSTERY,  both  from  its  own  characteristics 
ana  the  Evangelist's  language,  seems  to  be  the  fit 
test  signification  to  attach  to  this  stone,  for  it 
begins  and  completes  the  entire  fabric,  the  first 
foundation  and  topmost  wall  being  both  of  jasper. 
The  skillful  admixture  and  blending  of  colors,  in 
the  gems  of  the  foundation,  must  awaken  our  live 
liest  admiration,  if  we  give  the  subject  a  moment's 
consideration.  No  two  are  placed  consecutively 
whose  approximation  of  tone  or  hue  might  cloy 
on  the  sight,  or  whose  incongruity  might  challenge 
the  nicest  artistic  taste ;  but  all  evidence  the 
matchless  harmony  and  variety  which  is  ever 
visible  in  the  handi-work  of  the  God  of  infinite 
love  and  power.  An  equal  harmoniousness  mani 
fests  itself  in  the  setting  of  the  priestly  Breast- 
Plate  gems,  although  their  order  from  these  is 
different.  The  cause  of  the  variation  we  cannot 
determine,  but  may  not  there  be  something  signifi 
cant  in  the  fact  that  the  last  mentioned  in  the  Old 
Testament  list  is  the  first  in  the  New?  Flavel 
beautifully  says  of  the  mystery  of  the  Divine  deal 
ings  with  us :  "  Providence  is  like  a  curious  piece 
of  tapestry,  made  of  a  thousand  shreds,  which  sin- 


DIVINE  MYSTERY.  33 

gle,  appear  useless,  but  put  together,  they  repre 
sent  a  beautiful  history  to  the  eye." 

Upon  St.  Peter  was  conferred  the  honor  of 
being  the  senior  apostle  of  his  Lord.  Jesus,  on  his 
first  interview  with  Simon  Peter,  called  him  a 
stone ;  and  Christians  in  general  are  designated  by 
St.  Paul,  "living  stones" — that  is  to  say,  stones 
which  are  firmly  placed  and  have  not  been  dis 
turbed  from  their  original  foundations.  Peter, 
the  ardent,  enthusiastic  disciple,  in  his  impulses, 
his  errors,  his  weaknesses,  and  his  bitter  repent 
ance,  touches  and  wins  our  warmest  sympa 
thies  above  any  other  of  the  chosen  few ;  because 
that  in  temperament  he  is  a  type  of  a  large  portion 
of  humanity.  In  direct  contrast  to  the  character  ot 
Peter  is  the  saintly  sweetness  of  that  of  John,  which, 
while  all  admire,  very  few  are  able  to  imitate.  To 
natural  disposition  may  justly  be  attributed  many 
of  the  prominent  characteristics  of  each.  Peter 
seems  of  us ;  John  far  above  us.  The  history  of 
Peter  is  calculated  to  afibrd  us  consolation  and 
hope.  Were  his  restoration  to  Christ's  favor  not 
recorded  for  our  encouragement  and  instruction,  we 
would  be  apt  to  doubt  it;  for  mere  human  judg 
ment  is  little  disposed  to  extend  mercy  to  such 
foaiful  delinquency.  His  ill-regulated  zeal  con tinu- 


34:  DIVINE   MTSTEKT. 

ally  led  him  into  errors  ;  and  at  times,  his  impetu 
osity  drew  upon  him  the  gentle  rebuke  of  his  Mas 
ter.  It  is  difficult  to  trace  a  resemblance  between 
the  fiery  adherent  who  wished  to  invoke  vengeful 
fire  from  heaven  to  consume  certain  who  declined 
to  do  him  reverence,  and  the  tender  pastor  who 
afterwards  in  his  epistles  bestows  such  affectionate 
greetings  on  his  flock,  and  who  joyfully  hailed  the 
bitter  pangs  of  martyrdom.  After  such  experience 
as  was  his — after  such  soul-discipline,  well  might 
Peter  describe  the  angels  as  desirous  of  looking 
into  the  mysteries  of  redemption.  He  loved  much 
because  much  he  was  forgiven. 

In  our  hour  of  most  grievous  sin,  do  Thou,  O 
Lord,  but  turn  and  look  upon  us  as  thou  didst  upon 
derelict  Peter,  and  by  that  glance,  we,  too,  shall  be 
melted  into  contrition  !  Thrice  blessed  apostle !  who 
entered  into  the  bright  cloud  with  his  Master,  and 
witnessed  the  sublime  mystery  of  His  Transfigura 
tion,  full  well  might  he,  enrapt  in  the  beatific 
vision,  exclaim,  "  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here ; 
if  thou  wilt,  let  us  make  here  three  tabernacles ; 
one  for  thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias." 

A.  B.  G. 


DIVINE   MYSTEKY.  35 


fret  in  (info. 

"  What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know  here 
after." 

KNOW  not  what  Thou  dost :  all,  all  seems 

dark! 
Clouds   of   portentous  blackness   are   o'er 

spread ; 
"Wild  billows  dash  upon  my  quiv'ring  bark, 

The  thunder's  crash  reverb'rates  o'erhead. 
Yet,  Lord,  I'll  trust  Thee  in  life's  darkest  hour — 
My  shield,  my  safeguard,  and  my  strong  high 
tower. 

I  know  not  what  Thou  dost :  yet  I  will  wait 
Till  I  behold  Thee  in  heaven's  cloudless  sky, — 
Till  I  shall  reach  that  glory-circled  state, 
In  whose  bright  radiance  darkness  melts  away. 
Then  shall  I  read  Thy  doings  here  below, 
Inscribed  in  lines  of  light  that  ever  glow. 


36  DIVINE   MYSTERY. 

I  know  not  what  Thou  dost :  yet  I  will  know, 
And  know  to  praise  Thee  for  my  darkest  days ; 
Though  themes  of  sorrow  seem  Thy  doings  now, 
Yet  they  shall  soon  be  turn'd  to  themes  for  praise. 
Yes,  I  will  trust  Thee  till  Thou  kindly  pour, 
On  me  Thy  glory's  coruscating  shower. 

I  know  not  what  Thou  dost :  yet  will  I  hope 
In  Thee  till  life's  wild  troubled  stream  be  past ; 
Till  heaven's  fair  portals  on  my  vision  ope, 
Till  immortality  be  o'er  me  cast : 
Till  glory  on  my  wondering  spirit  break, 
And  glad  fruition  follow  in  its  wake. 


DIVINE   MYSTERY.  37 


sent  1m? 


S  a  question  not  always  asked  with  as  pious 
care  as  it  should  be.  One  of  the  most 
hardened  infidels  in  our  land  was  brought 

CD 

to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  by  means 
of  a  minister  of  our  acquaintance,  who  had 
been  driven  into  his  house  by  a  violent  storm. 
The  minister  felt  much  grieved  at  being  stopped  in 
his  way  before  he  reached  the  house  of  a  brother, 
but  God  meant  it  to  save  life.  The  following  story 
shows  the  importance  of  asking  "  Why  am  I  sent 
here  ?"  "  Mr.  Guthrie,  a  minister  who  lived  arid 
labored  in  Scotland  more  than  a  century  ago,  was 
one  evening  travelling  home  very  late,  when  he 
lost  his  wray,  and  laid  the  reins  on  the  hwse's  neck, 
committing  himself  to  Providence.  After  long 
travelling,  the  horse  brought  him  to  a  farmer's 
house,  into  wThich  he  wrent,  and  requested  permis 
sion  to  sit  by  the  fire  until  morning.  This  was 
granted. 

"A  Romish   priest  was   administering  extreme 


38  DIVINE   MYSTEKY. 

unction  to  the  mistress  of  the  house,  who  was 
dying.  Mr.  Guthrie  said  nothing  till  the  priest 
had  retired;  he  then  went  to  the  dying  woman 
and  asked  her  if  she  enjoyed  peace  in  the  prospect 
of  death  in  consequence  of  what  the  priest  had 
said  and  done  to  her.  She  answered  that  she  did 
not;  on  which  he  preached  to  her  salvation 
through  the  atoning  blood  of  the  Lamb.  The 
Lord  enabled  her  to  understand,  and  to  believe  the 
message  of  mercy,  and  she  died  in  the  triumphs  of 
redeeming  love.  After  witnessing  this  astonishing 
scene,  Mr.  Guthrie  mounted  his  horse  and  rode 
home.  On  his  arrival  he  told  Mrs.  Guthrie  he  had 
seen  a  great  wonder  during  the  night.  '  I  came,'  he 
said,  i  to  a  farmhouse,  where  I  found  a  woman  in  a 
state  of  nature,  I  saw  her  in  a  state  of  grace,  and 
left  her  in  a  state  of  glory.'  " 


DIVINE   MYSTERY.  39 


Jim     ftttfl     mirm, 

<;  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into 
the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them 
that  love  him." 


HAT  no  human  eye  hath  seen, 

What  no  mortal  ear  hath  heard, 
What  011  thought  hath  never  been 

In  her  noblest  flights  conferr'd — 
This  hath  God  prepared  in  store 
For  his  people  evermore. 


When  the  shaded  pilgrim  land 
Fades  before  my  closing  eye, 

Then  reveal'd  on  either  hand 
Heaven's  own  scenery  shall  lie"; 

Then  the  veil  of  flesh  shall  fall, 

Now  concealing,  darkening  all. 

Heavenly  landscapes,  calmly  bright, 
Life's  pure  river  murmuring  low, 
Forms  of  loveliness  and  light 


4:0  DIVINE    MYSTEET. 

Lost  to  earth  long  time  ago : — 
Yes,  my  own,  lamented  long, 
Shine  amid  the  angel  throng. 

Many  a  joyful  sight  was  given, 
Many  a  lovely  vision  here, 

Hill,  and  vale,  and  starry  even, 

Friendship's  smile,  affection's  tear — 

These  were  shadows,  sent  in  love, 

Of  realities  above ! 

When  upon  my  wearied  ear, 
Earth's  last  echoes  faintly  die, 

Then  shall  angel  harps  draw  near5 
All  the  chorus  of  the  sky. 

Long  hushed  voices  blend  again 

Sweetly  in  that  welcome  strain. 

Here  were  sweet  and  varied  tones — 
Bird,  and  breeze,  and  fountain's  fall ; 

Yet  Creation's  travail-groans 
Ever  sadly  sighed  through  all ; 

There  no  discord  jars  the  air — 

Harmony  is  perfect  there ! 

"When  this  aching  heart  shall  rest 
All  its  busy  pulses  o'er, 


DIVINE  MYSTEKY.  41 

From  her  mortal  robes  undrest, 

Shall  my  spirit  upward  soar — 
Then  shall  pure,  uniningled  joy, 
All  my  thoughts  and  powers  employ. 

Here  devotion's  healing  bairn 

Often  came  to  soothe  my  breast — 

Hours  of  deep  and  holy  calm, 
Earnest  of  eternal  rest ; 

But  the  bliss  was  here  unknown 

Which  shall  there  be  all  my  own. 

Jesus  reigns,  the  Life,  the  Sun, 
Of  that  wondrous  land  above — 

All  the  clouds  and  storms  are  gone, 
All  is  light  and  all  is  love. 

All  the  shadows  melt  away 

In  the  blaze  of  perfect  day ! 

From  the  German  of  Lange. 


4:2  DIYINE  MYSTEKY. 


)IIEEE  are  secrets  in  our  Lord's  procedure 
which  He  will  not  explain  to  us  in  this  life, 
,  and  which  may  not,  perhaps,  be  explained  in 
the  life  to  come.  "We  cannot  tell  how  He 
makes  evil  the  minister  of  good ;  how  he  com 
bines  physical  and  moral  agencies  of  different  kinds 
and  orders,  in  the  production  of  blessings.  We  cannot 
so  much  as  conjecture  what  bearings  the  system  of 
Redemption,  in  every  part  of  its  process,  may  have 
upon  the  relations  of  the  Universe ;  not  even  what 
may  be  all  the  connections  of  Providence  in  the 
occurrences  of  this  moment,  or  of  the  last.  "  Such 
knowledge  is  too  wonderful  for  us:  it  is  high,  we 
cannot  attain  it."  Our  Sovereign's  "  way  is  in  the 
sea,  and  his  path  in  the  deep  waters  :  and  his  foot 
steps  are  not  known."  When,  therefore,  wre  are 
surrounded  with  difficulty ;  when  we  cannot  unrid 
dle  His  conduct  in  particular -dispensations,  we  must 
remember  that  He  is  God ;  that  we  are  to  walk  by 
faith ;  and  to  trust  Him  as  implicitly  when  we  are 


DIVINE   MYSTERY.  4:3 

in  "  the  valley^of  the  shadow  of  death,"  as  when 
His  "  candle  shines  upon  our  heads."  We  must 
remember  that  it  is  not  for  us  to  be  admitted  into 
the  cabinet  of  the  King  of  kings ;  that  creatures 
constituted  as  we  are,  could  not  sustain  the  view  of 
His  unveiled  agency;  that  it  would  confound, 
and  scatter,  and  annihilate  our  little  intellects.  As 
often,  then,  as  He  retires  from  our  observation, 
blending  goodness  with  majesty,  let  us  lay  our 
hands  upon  our  mouths,  and  worship.  This  state- 
liness  of  our  King  can  afford  us  no  just  ground  of 
uneasiness. 

REV.  JOHN  MASON. 


44  DIVINE   MYSTERY. 


0f  %  Uteitljhtcj  Spirit. 

youth  I  died,  in  maiden  bloom  ; 
With  gentle  hand  Death  touched  my  cheek, 
And  with  his  touch  there  came  to  me 
A  spirit  calm  and  meek. 


He  took  from  me  all  wish  to  stay, 
He  was  so  kind,  I  feared  him  not  : 
My  friends  beheld  my  slow  decline, 
And  mourn'd  my  timeless  lot. 

They  saw  but  sorrow  :  I  descried 
The  bliss  that  never  fades  away. 
They  felt  the  shadow  of  the  tomb  ; 
I  inark'd  the  heavenly  day. 

I  heard  them  sob,  as  through  the  night 
They  kept  their  watch  ;  then  on  mine  ear 
Amid  the  sobbing  fell  a  voice 
Their  anguish  could  not  hear. 

"  Come,  and  fear  not,"  it  softly  cried  ; 
"  We  wait  to  lead  thee  to  thy  home." 


DIVINE   MYSTERY.  45 

Then  leap'd  my  spirit  to  reply, 
"  I  come,  I  long  to  come !" 

I  heard  them  whisper  o'er  my  bed, 
Another  hour,  and  she  must  die. 
I  was  too  weak  to  answer  them — 
That  endless  life  was  nigh. 

Another  hour,  with  bitter  tears 
They  mourn'd  me  as  untimely  dead ; 
And  heard  not  how  I  sung  a  song 
Of  triumph  o'er  their  head. 

They  bore  me  to  the  grave,  and  thought 
How  narrow  was  my  resting-place ; 
My  soul  was  roving  high  and  wide 
At  will  through  boundless  space. 

They  clothed  themselves  in  robes  of  black ; 
Through  the  sad  aisles  the  requiem  rang ; 
Meanwhile  the  white-robed  choirs  of  heaven, 
A  holy  pean  sang. 

Oft  from  my  paradise  I  come, 
To  visit  those  I  love  on  earth. 
I  enter,  unperceived,  the  door ; 
They  sit  around  the  hearth, 


46  DIVINE   MYSTERY. 

And  talk  in  sadden'd  tones  of  me, 
As  one  that  never  may  return. 
How  little  think  they  that  I  stand, 
Among  them  as  they  mourn. 

But  time  will  ease  their  grief,  and  death 
Will  purge  the  darkness  from  their  eyes. 
Then  shall  they  triumph,  when  they  learn 
Heaven's  solemn  mysteries. 


DIVINE   MYSTERY.  47 


DODDRIDGE  was  on  terms  of  very  in 
timate  friendship  with  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke, 
and  in  religious  conversation  they  spent  very- 
many  happy  hours  together.  Among  other 
matters,  a  very  favorite  topic  was  the  inter 
mediate  state  of  the  soul,  and  the  probability  that 
at  the  instant  of  dissolution,  it  was  not  introduced 
into  the  presence  of  all  the  heavenly  hosts,  and  the 
splendors  around  the  Throne  of  God.  One  evening, 
after  a  conversation  of  this  nature,  Dr.  Doddridge 
retired  to  rest  with  his  mind  full  of  the  subject  dis 
cussed,  and  in  "  the  visions  of  the  night,"  his  ideas 
were  shaped  into  the  following  beautiful  dream : 
He  dreamed  that  he  was  at  the  house  of  a  friend, 
when  he  was  suddenly  taken  dangerously  ill.  By 
degrees  he  seemed  to  himself  to  grow  worse,  and,  at 
last,  to  expire.  In  an  instant  he  was  sensible  that 
he  had  exchanged  the  prison-house  and  suffering  of 
mortality  for  a  state  of  liberty  and  happiness.  Em 
bodied  in  a  slender  aerial  form,  he  seemed  to  float 


4:8  DIVINE   MYSTEKY. 

in  a  region  of  pure  light.  Beneath  him  lay  the 
earth,  but  not  a  glittering  city  or  a  village,  the 
forest  or  the  sea  was  visible.  There  was  naught  to 
be  seen  below  save  the  melancholy  group  of  his 
friends,  weeping  around  his  lifeless  remains. 

Himself  thrilled  with  delight,  he  was  surprised  at 
their  tears,  and  attempted  to  inform  them  of  his 
happy  change,  but  by  some  mysterious  power,  utter 
ance  was  denied ;  and  as  he  anxiously  leaned  over 
the  mourning  circle,  gazing  fondly  upon  them  and 
struggling  to  speak,  he  rose  silently  upon  the  air, 
their  forms  became  more  and  more  indistinct,  and 
gradually  melted  away  from  his  sight.  Reposing 
upon  golden  clouds,  he  found  himself  swiftly  mount 
ing  the  skies  with  a  venerable  figure  at  his  side 
guiding  his  mysterious  movements,  and  in  whose 
countenance  he  remarked  the  lineaments  of  youth 
and  age  were  blended  together  with  an  intimate 
harmony  and  majestic  sweetness.  They  travelled 
together  through  a  vast  region  of  empty  space,  until 
at  length  the  battlements  of  a  glorious  edifice  shone 
in  the  distance,  and  as  its  form  rose  brilliant  and 
distinct  among  the  far-off  shadows  that  flitted 
athwart  their  path,  the  guide  informed  him  that  the 
palace  he  beheld,  was,  for  the  present,  to  be  his 
mansion  of  rest.  Gazing  upon  its  splendor,  he  re- 


DIVINE   MYSTERY.  49 

plied,  that  while  on  earth  he  had  often  heard  that 
the  eye  had  not  seen,  nor  had  the  ear  heard,  nor 
could  it  enter  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  the 
things  which  God  had  prepared  for  those  who  love 
him;  but,  notwithstanding  the  building  to  which 
they  were  then  rapidly  approaching  was  superior 
to  anything  which  he  had  actually  before  beheld, 
yet  its  grandeur  had  not  exceeded  the  conceptions 
he  had  formed.  The  guide  made  no  reply,  they 
were  already  at  the  door,  and  entered.  The  guide 
introduced  him  into  a  spacious  apartment,  at  the 
extremity  of  which  stood  a  table,  covered  with  a 
snow-white  cloth,  a  golden  cup,  and  a  cluster  of 
grapes,  and  then  said  he  must  now  leave  him,  but 
that  he  must  remain,  for  he  would  receive  in  a  short 
time  a  visit  from  the  Lord  of  the  mansion,  and  that 
during  the  interval  before  His  arrival  the  apartment 
would  furnish  him  with  sufficient  entertainment 
and  instruction.  The  guide  vanished,  and  he  was 
left  alone.  He  began  to  examine  the  decorations 
of.  the  room,  and  observed  that  the  walls  were 
adorned  with  a  number  of  pictures.  Upon  nearer 
inspection  he  found,  to  his  astonishment,  that  they 
formed  a  complete  biography  of  his  own  life.  Here 
he  saw  upon  the  canvas  that  angels,  though  un 
seen,  had  ever  been  his  familiar  attendants ;  and, 


50  DIVINE   MYSTERY. 

sent  by  God,  that  they  had  sometimes  preserved  him 
from  imminent  peril.  He  beheld  himself  first  re 
presented  as  an  infant  just  expiring,  when  his  life 
was  prolonged  by  an  angel  gently  breathing  into 
his  nostrils.  Most  of  the  occurrences  here  deline 
ated,  were  perfectly  familiar  to  his  recollection,  and 
unfolded  many  things  which  he  had  never  before 
understood,  and  which  had  perplexed  him  with 
many  doubts  and  much  uneasiness.  Among  others, 
he  was  particularly  struck  with  a  picture  in  which 
he  was  represented  as  falling  from  his  horse,  when 
death  would  have  been  inevitable,  had  not  an  angel 
received  him  in  his  arms,  and  broken  the  force  of 
his  descent.  These  merciful  interpositions  of  God 
filled  him  with  joy  and  gratitude,  and  his  heart 
overflowed  with  love  as  he  surveyed  in  them  all  an 
exhibition  of  goodness  and  mercy  far  beyond  all 
that  he  had  imagined.  Suddenly  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  rap  at  the  door.  The  Lord  of  the 
mansion  had  arrived — the  door  opened  and  He  en 
tered.  So  powerful  and  so  overwhelming,  and 
withal  of  such  singular  beauty  was  His  appearance? 
that  the  doctor"  sunk  down  at  His  feet,  completely 
overcome  by  His  majestic  presence.  His  Lord 
gently  raised  him  from  the  ground,  and  taking  his 
hand,  led  him  forward  to  the  table.  He  pressed 


DIVINE   MYSTERY.  51 

with  His  fingers  the  juice  of  the  grapes  into  the 
golden  cup,  and,  after  having  Himself  drank,  pre 
sented  it  to  Dr.  Doddridge,  saying:  "This  is  the 
new  wine  in  my  Father's  Kingdom."  No  sooner 
had  he  partaken  than  all  uneasy  sensations  vanished, 
perfect  love  had  now  cast  out  fear,  and  he  conversed 
with  his  Saviour  as  an  intimate  friend.  Like  the 
silver  rippling  of  a  summer  sea,  he  heard  fall  from 
His  lips  the  grateful  approbation :  "  Thy  labors  are 
over,  thy  work  is  approved,  rich  and  glorious  is  the 
reward."  Thrilled  with  an  unspeakable  bliss,  that 
glided  over  his  spirit  and  slid  into  the  very  depths 
of  his  soul,  he  suddenly  saw  glories  upon  glories 
bursting  upon  his  view.  The  doctor  awoke.  Tears 
of  rapture  from  his  joyful  interview  were  rolling 
down  his  cheeks.  Long  did  the  lively  impression 
of  this  charming  dream  remain  upon  his  mind,  and 
never  could  he  speak  of  it  without  emotions  of  joy 
and  tenderness. 


52  DIVINE  MYSTERY. 


UEST  from  a  holier  world, 
O  tell  me  where  the  peaceful  valleys  lie ! 
Dove  in  the  ark  of  life,  when  thou  shalt  fly, 
Where  will  thy  wings  be  furled  ? 

Where  is  thy  native  nest  ? 

Where  the  green  pastures  that  the  blessed  roam  ? 
Impatient  dweller  in  thy  clay-built  home, 

Where  is  the  heavenly  rest  ? 

On  some  immortal  shore — 
Some  realm  away  from  earth  and  time,  I  know ; 
A  land  of  bloom,  where  living  waters  flow, 

And  grief  comes  nevermore. 

Faith  turns  my  eyes  above ; 
Day  fills  with  floods  of  light  the  boundless  skies ; 
Night  watches  calmly  with  her  starry  eyes, 

All  tremulous  with  love. 

And  as  entranced  I  gaze, 
Sweet  music  floats  to  me  from  distant  lyres ; 


DIVINE  MYSTERY.  53 

I  see  a  temple,  round  whose  golden  spires 
Unearthly  glory  plays ! 

Within  those  azure  deeps 
I  fix  thy  home — a  mansion  kept  for  thee 
Within  the  Father's  house,  whose  noiseless  key 

Kind  Death,  the  warder,  keeps. 

ALBERT  LAIGIITON. 


64:  DrVTBTE  MYSTEEY. 


mato  %  SM  50  toteftlt? 

)TS  immortality.  When  endless  years  have 
run  on,  the  soul  will  still  exist;  amazing 
thought !  Will  it  never  tire  ?  will  the  ethereal 
pulsation  of  sublimated  existence  never  grow 
heavy  ?  will  the  wheel  never  be  broken  at  the 
cistern?  Never!  The  soul  will  endure  as  long  as 
the  throne  of  God !  As  heaven's  wall  shall  gather 
no  mosses  from  age,  neither  will  the  soul  become 
decrepit ;  and  in  all  the  multitudes  of  heaven,  not 
one  shall  be  seen  leaning  upon  his  staff  for  very 
age!  What!  like  the  angels,  never  grow  old!  to 
be  always  the  same  through  dateless  centuries  as 
when  first  created !  But  cannot  she  annihilate  her 
self?  Oh,  no,  the  soul's  literal  suicide  cannot  be 
performed !  No  Judas  Iscariot  can  find  a  sulphur 
ous  tree,  or  jutting  wall,  which,  in  Gehenna's  cavern, 
or  burning  fields,  may  afford  him  suspension  be 
tween  life  and  death.  The  soul  must  live  on ! 


.A-tidrew.  Heavenly-MHrLd-edness. 

"  We  have  found  the  Messias." 

)HE  SAPPHIKE  is  the  precious  stone  of 
the  second  foundation  of  the  New  Jeru 
salem,  and  sealed  with  the  name  of  An 
drew.  The  oriental  sapphire  is  an  exqui 
site  gem,  held  in  high  reputation  from  its 
celestial  azure  and  limpid  transparency.  In  lustre 
and  hardness  it  is  surpassed  only  by  the  diamond. 
The  ancients  were  wont  to  ascribe  to  it  many 
miraculous  virtues,  such  as  being  an  jmtidote 
against  the  stings  of  icorpipns_and  adders,  and 
frequently  wore  it  as  an  amulet.  It  is  enumerated 
among  the  Stones  of  Fire,  which  Ezekiel  the  pro 
phet  said  adorned  the  King  of  Tyre ;  and  the  same 
inspired  writer  describes  the  appearance  of  the 
heavenly  throne,  which  he  saw  in  his  vision,  as 
resembling  a  sapphire  stone.  Its  charming  ceru 
lean,  so  universally  admired,  and  reminding  us  of  the 

65 


56          -  HEAVENLY-MINDEDNES8. 

blue  empyrean  that  arches  in  limitless  expanse  in 
the  firmament  above  us,  renders  it  a  fitting  symbol 
of  HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS,— of  the  undisturbed 
tranquillity  and  sweet  benign  graces  that  reign  in 
a  saintly  soul;  just  as  a  clear  blue  sky  always 
betokens  fair  weather  and  cheerful  sunshine. 
Blue,  it  may  be  observed,  is  a  favorite  color  of 
Scripture,  and  in  those  days  it  was  one  of  the  most 
costly  dyes  in  use,  and  much  valued  for  elegant 
draperies  and  royal  attire.  Placed  next  in  succes 
sion  to  the  jasper  in  the  eternal  foundations,  the 
sapphire  is  in  beautiful  contrast,  the  pellucid  azure 
of  the  one  being  in  fine  relief  with  the  semi- 
opaqueness  and  more  sober  comeliness  of  the 

other. 

"We  have  found  the  Messias !"  are  the  only 
words  recorded  of  St.  Andrew  throughout  the 
sacred  narratives.  This  disciple,  who  lays  not 
much  claim  to  our  attention  by  his  sayings,  was 
called  by  Christ  to  follow  Him  while  laboring  in 
his  lowly  avocation  of  a  fisherman,  in  company 
with  his  brother,  Simon  Peter.  The  words  are 
few,  but  they  seem  to  imply  two  important  points ; 
first,  that  he  had  been  seeking  Him  who  now, 
thus  unexpectedly,  manifested  himself;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  that,  so  soon  as  found,  he,  with 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS.  57 

unquestioning  faith,  instantly  believed  on  Him. 
"  We  have  found  the  Messias  !"  exclaimed  he,  not 
1  have  found  Him ;  for  well  he  knew  that  the 
mighty  redemption  should  extend  to  all  those  who 
would  receive  it  ; — and,  leaving  his  nets,  he 
straightway  hastened  to  acquaint  others  with  the 
glad  tidings.  The  phrase,  by  its  concise  force, 
seems  to  indicate  the  eager  delight  of  his  soul, 
when  the  light  of  inspiration,  flashing  upon  him, 
revealed  to  his  astonished  gaze  the  long-expected 
Messiah,  walking  in  serene  majesty  by  the  Sea 
of  Galilee.  No  sooner  did  Jesus  speak,  than, 
rejoicing  in  his  unsought  election,  Andrew  imme 
diately,  waiting  but  to  bring  his  brother  also  to 
the  Saviour,  followed  Him;  and  the  celestial 
radiance  which  then  dawned  upon  him,  illumined 
his  rugged  path  with  increasing  glory,  until,  re 
leased  from  the  cross  of  martyrdom,  the  Morning 
Star  glittered  upon  his  brow. 

Said  one,  whose  life  had  been  a  course  of  trust 
ing  faith  and  heavenly-mindedness,  "  Though  I 
change  my  place,  I  shall  not  change  my  company ; 
for  I  have  walked  with  God  on  earth  while  living, 
and  after  death  I  shall  walk  with  Him  in  heaven." 
"  We  have  found  the  Messias  !"  Nay,  rather  have 
we  been  found  of  Him  as  was  Andrew ;  for  "  all 

3* 


58  HEAVENLY.MINDEDNESS. 

we  as  sheep  have  gone  astray,"  and  He  came  to 
seek  and  to  save  those  that  are  lost. 

"  0  Jesus,  Lamb  once  crucified 

To  take  our  load  of  sins  away, 
Thine  be  the  hymn  that  rolls  its  tide 
Along  the  realms  of  upper  day." 

Seek  and  find  us,  frail  wanderers,  Thou  Shepherd 
Divine !  and  so,  whether  the  meeting  and  greeting 
was  in  an  hour  of  ease  or  of  toil ;  in  an  hour  of  joy 
or  of  anguish  ;  in  the  first,  or  sixth,  or  eleventh  hour 
of  life,  we  are  safe,  safe  foreverrnore,  and  shall 
shine  in  unfading  lustre  in  that  grand  Coronation- 
Day,  when  every  jewel  shall  sparkle  with  immortal 
light. 

A.  B.  G. 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS.  59 


"  And  confessed  that  they  were  strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the 
earth." 


IIEEKFUL,  O  Lord !   at  Thy  command, 

I  bind  my  sandals  on ; 
I  take  my  pilgrim's  staff  in  hand, 
And  go  to  seek  the  better  land, 

The  way  Thy  feet  have  gone. 


I  oft  shall  think,  when  on  my  way 

Some  bitter  grief  I  meet ; 
"  This  path  hath  echoed  with  His  moan, 
And  every  rude  and  flinty  stone, 

Hath  bruised  His  blessed  feet." 

Fainting  and  sad  along  the  road, 

Thou  layest  on  my  head, 
The  hands  they  fastened  to  the  tree, 
The  hands  that  paid  the  price  for  me, 

The  hands  that  brake  the  bread. 


30  HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS. 

Thou  whisperest  some  pleasant  word, 
I  catch  the  much-loved  tone  ; 

I  feel  Thee  near,  my  gracious  Lord ! 

I  know  Thou  keepest  watch  and  ward, 
And  all  my  grief  is  gone. 

From  every  mountain's  rugged  peak, 

The  far-off  land  I  know ; 
And  from  its  fields  of  fadeless  bloom, 
Come  breezes  laden  with  perfume, 

And  fan  my  weary  brow. 

There  peaceful  hills  and  holy  vales 

Sleep  in  eternal  day ; 
While  rivers,  deep  and  silent,  glide 
'Twixt  meads  and  groves  on  either  side, 

Through  which  the  blessed  stray. 

There  He  abides,  who  is  of  Heaven, 
The  loveliest  and  the  best ; 

His  face,  when  shall  I  gaze  upon  ! 

Or  share  with'  the  beloved  John 
The  pillow  of  His  breast ! 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS.  61 


FIND  a  beautiful  description  of  the 
heavenly  state  in  the  statement  of  St.  John, 
that  he  saw  no  temple  there.  It  tells  me 
there  is  no  keeping  of  the  earthly  Sabbath, 
for  all  its  days  alike  are  holiness  to  the 
Lord ;  and  telling  me  this,  it  also  tells  me  that  if 
once  admitted  within  the  gates  of  pearl,  and  pri 
vileged  to  tread  the  streets  of  gold,  I  shall  be  free 
from  remainder  of  corruption;  I  shall  no  longer 
need  external  ordinances  to  remind  me  of  my 
allegiance,  and  strengthen  me  for  conflict ;  but 
that,  made  equal  to  the  angels,  I  shall  love  God 
without  wavering,  and  serve  God  without  weari 
ness.  Therefore,  however  a  human  pencil,  striving 
to  delineate  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  might  have 
intermingled  sanctuaries  and  palaces ;  and  crowned 
the  city  with  that  diadem  of  towers  which  tells 
of  dwelling-places,  reared  for  Him  whom  the 
universe  cannot  contain ;  there  is  more,  far  more, 
to  me  in  the  total  want  of  sacred  architecture, 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS. 


than  in  the  rich  profusion  of  dome  and  steeple  with 
which  man  would  have  crested  the  heavenly  me 
tropolis.  And  though  poetry,  if  bidden  to  pour 
its  melodies  on  the  home  of  the  saints,  might  have 
drawn  its  imagery  from  what  is  most  celestial 
on  earth,  and  have  spoken  of  the  courts  of  the 
Lord's  house,  and  the  tabernacles  crowned  with  the 
mystic  insignia  of  a  present  Deity — nothing  could 
have  been  so  eloquent  to  me  of  the  deep  tranquil 
lities  and  purities  of  heaven,  and  nothing  could 
have  so  told  me  of  one  uniform,  cloudless,  blessed 
Sabbath,  as  the  simple  announcement  of  St.  John, 
"  And  I  saw  no  temple  there." 

MELVILLE. 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS.  63 


fir*  gtprtrir 

PEAK  to  us ;  tliou  art  laid 
So  calmly  out  to  slumber,  we  might  deem 
Thee   smiling  in  some  bright  and  happy 

dream : 

"Why  didst  thou  fade 
"With  youth  and  joyance  on  thy  radiant  brow? 
Fair  spirit,  thou  art  blest  and  happy  now. 

The  earth  was  bright  to  thee  ; 
Thou  look'dst  upon  its  sunshine  and  its  flowers, 
And  gather'dst  gladness  for  the  weary  hours  : 

Life's  mystery 

Of  joy  and  sorrow  it  was  thine  to  know ; 
What  heart  that  speaketh  not  of  bliss  and  woe ! 

A  woman's  soul  was  thine, 
And  woman's  nature  on  thy  brow  was  seal'd ; 
And  depths  within  thy  spirit  e'er  revealed, 

As  a  pure  shrine, 

The  countless  treasures  of  affection's  might, 
And  changeless  truth,  unscathed  by  earthly  blight. 


64  HEAYENXT-MINDEDNESS. 

Still  shedding  a  soft  spell 
O'er  the  sweet  sanctuary  of  hearth  and  home, 
As  a  rich  sunbeam  on  the  ocean  foam, 

So  didst  thoii  dwell, 

Amid  thy  cherished — a  fair  form  of  light, 
Beloved  and  loving  as  an  angel  bright. 

Thou  restest  now :  the  rush, 
The  strife  of  being,  are  forever  past ; 
And,  calmly  sheltered  from  the  fearful  blast, 

Thy  joyous  gush 

Of  holy  rapture  and  adoring  love 
Ascendeth  still  to  Him  who  reigns  above. 

Farewell,  farewell !  thy  voice 
From  earth  hath  parted,  and  its  music  deep 
Hath  mingled  with  the  lays  that  melt  and  steep 

In  rapturous  joys 

"  Seraphic  legions."    Be  it  ours  to  dwell 
E'er  with  thee  on  that  shore. — Farewell,  farewell. 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS.  65 


for  temjf  ftoljj. 

MAN"  who  has  been  redeemed  by  the  blood 
of  the  Son  of  God  should  be  pure.  He 
who  is  an  heir  of  life  should  be  holy.  He 
who  is  attended  by  celestial  beings,  and 
who  is  soon,  he  knows  not  how  soon,  to  be 
translated  to  heaven,  should  be  holy.  Are  angels 
my  attendants  ?  then  I  should  walk  worthy  of  my 
companionship.  Am  I  soon  to  go  and  dwell  with 
angels?  then  I  should  be  pure.  Are  these  feet 
soon  to  tread  the  courts  of  heaven  ?  Is  this  tongue 
soon  to  unite  with  heavenly  beings  in  praising 
God  ?  Are  these  eyes  of  mine  soon  to  look  on  the 
throne  of  eternal  glory,  and  on  the  ascended  Re 
deemer  ?  Then  these  feet,  and  eyes,  and  lips,  should 
be  pure  and  holy ;  and  I  should  be  dead  to  the 
world,  and  live  for  heaven. 

ALBEKT  BARNES. 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNES8. 


0f 


O  sickness  there, 

!N"o  weary  wasting  of  the  frame  away, 
E"o  fearful  shrinking  from  the  midnight 

air, 
JSTo  dread  of  summer's  bright  and  fervid 

£>••  i 

ray! 

"No  hidden  grief, 

"No  wild  and  cheerless  vision  of  despair  ; 
"Ho  vain  petition  for  a  swift  relief, 
JS[o  tearful  eye,  no  broken  hearts  are  there. 

Care  has  no  home 

"Within  that  realm  of  ceaseless  prayer  and  song  — 
Its  tossing  billows  break  and  melt  in  foam, 
Far  from  the  mansions  of  the  spirit  throng. 

The  storm's  black  wing 
Is  never  spread  athwart  celestial  skies  ! 
Its  wailing  blends  not  with  the  voice  of  spring, 
As  some  too  tender  floweret  fades  and  dies. 


HEAVENLT-MINDEDNE8S.  67 

No  night  distills 

Its  chilling  dews  upon  the  tender  frame ; 
No  moon  is  needed  there !  the  light  which  fills 
That  land  of  glory,  from  its  Maker  came. 

No  parted  friends 

O'er  mournful  recollections  have  to  weep ; 
No  bed  of  death  enduring  love  attends, 
To  watch  the  coming  of  a  pulseless  sleep  ! 

No  blasted  flower 

Or  withered  bud,  celestial  gardens  know ! 
No  scorching  blasts,  or  fierce  descending  shower, 
Scatters  destruction  like  a  ruthless  foe ! 

No  battle  word 

Startles  the  sacred  host  with  fear  and  dread ; 
The  song  of  peace  Creation's  morning  heard, 
Is  sung  wherever  angel  minstrels  tread ! 

Let  us  depart, 

If  home  like  this  await  the  weary  soul. 
Look  up,  thou  stricken  one  ;  thy  wounded  heart 
Shall  bleed  no  more  at  sorrow's  stern  control. 

With  faith  our  guide, 

White-robed  and  innocent,  to  trace  the  way, 
Why  fear  to  plunge  in  Jordan's  rolling  tide, 
And  find  the  ocean  of  Eternal  Day ! 


6  8  HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS. 


pto  Imtsaltm. 

T  is  not  for  nothing  that  St.  John,  representing 
the  Jerusalem  that  is  on  high,  saith  that  it  is 
full  of  the  glory  of  God,  and  that  its  light  is 
more  sparkling  than  that  of  precious  stones ; 
that  the  wall  thereof  is  jasper,  the  buildings 
of  pure  gold,  like  unto  transparent  glass ;  the  foun 
dations  thereof  so  many  quarries  of  precious 
stones ;  that  its  twelve  gates  are  twelve  pearls,  its 
streets  paved  with  gold  ;  and  that  the  Almighty, 
and  the  Lamb  that  accomplished  our  salvation, 
are  the  temple  of  it ;  that  it  hath  no  need  of  the 
sun,  or  of  the  moon,  for  God  enlightens  it  on  all 
sides ;  and  the  Lamb  is  that  which  makes  it  spar 
kle  with  eternal  light.  Although  these  terms  be 
prophetic  and  mysterious,  their  sense  is  never 
theless  a  representation  of  a  magnificence  which 
cannot  be  expressed.  And  although  it  have  a  par 
ticular  regard  to  the  light  of  knowledge,  and  the 
perfect  holiness  of  the  church  of  God;  never 
theless,  it  includes  the  quality  of  its  perfect  happi 
ness,  and  the  beauty  of  its  habitation. 

:  AMYKALDTJS. 


HEAVENLT-MINDEDNESS.  69 


H,  talk  to  me  of  heaven !     I  love 
To  hear  about  my  home  above  ; 
For  there  doth  many  a  loved  one  dwell 
In  light  and  joy  ineffable. 
Oh,  tell  me  how  they  shine  and  sing, 
While  every  harp  rings  echoing  ; 
And  every  glad  and  tearless  eye, 
Beams  like  the  bright  sun,  gloriously. 
Tell  me  of  that  victorious  palm 
Each  hand  in  glory  beareth  ; 
Tell  me  of  that  celestial  calm 
Each  face  in  glory  weareth. 

Oh,  happy,  happy  country !  where 

There  entereth  not  a  sin  : 

And  death,  who  keeps  its  portals  fair, 

May  never  once  come  in. 

No  grief  can  change  their  day  to  night — 

The  darkness  of  that  land  is  light. 

Sorrow  and  sighing  God  hath  sent 

From  thence  to  endless  banishment. 


70  HEAVENLY-MIKDED1TES8. 

And  never  more  may  one  dark  tear, 

Bedim  their  burning  eyes ; 
For  every  one  they  shed  while  here, 

In  fearful  agonies, 
Glitters  a  bright  and  dazzling  gem, 
In  their  immortal  diadem. 

Oh,  lovely,  blooming  country !  there 
Flourishes  all  that  we  deem  fair, 
And  though  no  fields  nor  forests  green, 
Nor  bowery  gardens  there  are  seen, 

Nor  perfumes  load  the  breeze ; 
Nor  hears  the  ear  material  sound, 
Yet  joys  at  God's  right  hand  are  found — 

The  archetypes  of  these. 
There  is  the  home,  the  land  of  birth, 
Of  all  we  highest  prize  on  earth ; 
The  storms  that  rock  this  world  beneath, 

Must  there  forever  cease ; 
The  only  air  the  blessed  breathe, 

Is  purity  and  peace. 

Oh,  happy,  happy  land  !  in  thee 
Shines  the  unveiled  Deity, 
Shedding  through  each  adoring  breast 
A  holy  calm,  a  halcyon  rest. 


HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS.  71 

And  those  blest  souls  whom  death  did  sever, 
Have  met  to  mingle  joys  forever. 
Oh,  soon  may  heaven  unclose  to  me  I 
Oh,  may  I  soon  that  glory  see  ! 
And  my  faint,  weary  spirit  stand 
"Within  that  happy,  happy  land ! 

BOWLES. 


James.  Royal  Dominion. 

"  Grant  unto  us  that  we  may  sit,  one  on  thy  right  hand,  and  tho 
other  on  thy  left  hand,  in  thy  glory." 

)HE  CHALCEDONY,  or  carbuncle,  is  the 
precious  stone  of  the  third  foundation  of  the 
Zion  on  High,  where  it  bears  the  signet  of 
James.  From  its  superb  color,  resembling  a 
coal,  red  hot  with  fire,  it  seems  a  most  appro 
priate  symbol  of  KOYAL  DOMINION,  and,  consequently, 
of  the  royal  house  of  Judah,  from  which  sprung  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  vision  of  Ezekiel,  the 
Sacred  Presence  which  occupied  the  throne  of  Sap 
phire,  was  in  the  likeness  of  a  flame  of  fire,  and  of 
great  brightness.  This  brilliant  gem,  which 
burns  radiantly  even  in  the  dark,  is,  by  the 
Seventy,  and  others  of  the  most  reliable  translators, 
styled  the  carbuncle.  Ancient  superstition  attri 
buted  to  it  divers  and  excellent  powers,  especially 
that  of  resisting  poison.  For  the  enhancement  of 
its  dazzling  glories,  how.  more  advantageously  could 
n 


KOYAI,   DOMINION.  73 

it  have  been  set,  than  between  the  celestial  sap 
phire  and  lovely  emerald. 

Of  the  apostle  Saint  James,  there  appears  on 
holy  record  no  distinctly  personal  expression  ;  but 
on  two  separate  occasions,  we  find  him,  in  company 
with  his  brother  John,  making  requests  of  the 
Saviour,  although  it  is  uncertain  which  was  the 
spokesman,  and  in  neither  instance  is  the  impres 
sion  created  in  our  minds,  of  the  most  favorable 
kind.  The  replies  of  Jesus  were  intended  not  for 
their  instruction  only,  but  also  for  ours,  "for  in 
many  things  we  offend  all."  Once  they  wished 
Him  to  permit  them  to  call  down  fire,  as  did  Elias, 
on  some  who  failed  to  recognize  their  dignity  ;  and 
again,  with  an  ambitious  presumption  which  was 
encouraged  by  maternal  solicitude,  entreated  of 
their  Master  that  He  would  confer  on  them  a  station 
in  His  kingdom,  second  but  to  His  own.  Between 
these  characteristics,  and  the  flashing,  fiery  carbun 
cle,  we  may  trace  some  resemblance.  James,  truly, 
was  granted  his  petition,  for  not  long  after  the 
Ascension  of  his  Lord  to  His  throne,  he  was 
beheaded  by  Herod :  thus  achieving  preeminence 
in  a  manner  for  which  he  looked  not,  and  winning 
the  first  crown  of  martyrdom  among  his  peers. 
The  humility  and  gentleness  inculcated  by  his  Mas- 

4 


KOYAI,   DOMINION. 

ter,  had  their  full  effect  upon  him,  as  was  seen  in 
the  sequel.  It  is  said  that  when  he  was  led  to  the 
place  of  execution,  the  officer  who  had  guarded 
him  to  the  tribunal,  and  who  was  also  his  accuser, 
having  been  converted  by  his  conduct  at  the  time 
of  trial,  fell  down  at  the  feet  of  the  apostle,  and 
entreated  his  forgiveness  for  what  he  had  done. 
The  holy  martyr,  tenderly  embracing  him,  replied, 
"  Peace,  my  son,  peace  be  to  thee  and  the  pardon 
of  thy  faults  I"  The  officer,  thereupon,  publicly 
declared  himself  a  Christian,  and  both  were 
beheaded  together.  How  striking  the  contrast 
between  this  benedictory  spirit,  and  his  early  one 
of  resentment ! 

The  bright  red  of  the  chalcedony  may  aptly 
serve  to  illustrate  the  zeal  which  animates  the  soul 
of  every  loyal  Christian  soldier  while  engaged  in 
life's  incessant  warfare ;  and  it  may  also  be  a 
figure  of  the  hot  persecutions  through  which  the 
church  in  all  ages  has  passed.  Its  dimless  lustre 
may,  furthermore,  denote  the  quenchless  glory  of  the 
Divine  Representative  of  the  kingly  house  of  Judah. 
A  soul  glowing  with  the  ardor  of  the  chalcedony, 
and  tempered  with  the  serene  loveliness  of  the  sap 
phire,  may  soar  above  the  ills  of  life — may  smile 
unappalled  upon  the  fury  of  the  whirlwind,  and 


KOYAL    DOMINION.  75 

sing,  with  steadfast  voice,  amid  the  billowy  surges 
of  Jordan.  Many,  like  one  of  Bunyan's  Pilgrims, 
pass  through  that  dreaded  flood,  singing  a  trium 
phal  chant,  though  none  on  this  side  may  under 
stand  its  import.  Oh,  Thou,  who  "before  the 
mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  Thou  hadst 
formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlast 
ing  to  everlasting "  hath  swayed  the  sceptre  of 
Royal  Dominion,  rule  over  our  hearts  now  and  for- 
evermore  !  Thou,  who  boldest  the  key  of  the  house 
of  David,  who  openetli  and  no  man  shutteth ;  and 
shutteth  and  no  man  openeth :  "  In  all  time  of  our 
tribulation ;  in  all  time  of  our  prosperity ;  in  the 
hour  of  Death,  and  in  the  Day  of  Judgment 
Good  Lord,  deliver  us !" 


A.  B.  G. 


76  BOTAL  DOMINION. 


"  The  nations  of  them  that  are  saved  shall  walk  in  the  light  of 
it."— Rev.  xxi.— 24. 

"  Not  the  glitter  and  glory  ;  not  the  diamond  and  topaz  ;  no,  it 
is  God ;  He  is  all  and  in  all."— RICHARD  WATSON. 

ALK  in  that  light !"— Oh  !  who  are  they 
Whose  feet  shall  tread  that  shining  way  ? 
Whose  sight,  undazzled,  shall  behold 
That  pavement  of  transparent  gold? 
By  angels  welcomed,  who,  oh !  who 
Shall  pass  those  pearly  portals  through, 
And  brighten  in  the  glorious  blaze, 
Of  that  gemm'd  city's  sparkling  rays  ? 

There  walk  the  saved  :  but  not  in  light, 

Of  suns  in  sevenfold  lustre  bright ; 

Nor  peerless  moonbeams'  silent  sheen, 

Exposing,  soft,  on  velvet  green  : 

~No !  nor  where  the  hallowed  radiance  spreads, 

From  golden  lamps,  o'er  sainted  heads, 

Within  the  temple  ceaseless  found, 

While  walk  the  hours  their  silent  round. 


EOYAL   DOMINION.  77 

There  walk  the  saved :  yes !  they  who  bore, 
While  traversing  life's  stormy  shore, 
Through  tears  of  blood,  the  hallow'd  cross ; 
Who,  purged  from  earth's  terrestrial  dross, 
Received  the  Saviour's  form  impress'd, 
Whose  signet,  on  each  hallowed  breast 
Enstamp'd  the  mystic  name,  unknown 
To  all  but  those  around  the  throne. 

Who  calm,  'midst  earth's  tumultuous  strife, 
Drew  from  Himself  that  inward  life 
Which  spirits  breathe,  from  sense  apart ; 
While  deep  in  each  devoted  heart, 
The  formless  glory  dwelt  serene, 
Of  old,  in  cherub  splendor  seen — 
Prelude  of  bliss  reserved  above, 
In  perfect  light,  for  perfect  love. 

Now,  all  is  heaven !  no  temple  there 
Unfolds  its  gates ;  no  voice  of  prayer 
From  that  bright  multitude  ascends  ; 
But  holy  rapture,  reverent,  bends 
Before  the  Mediatorial  throne ; 
Before  the  Lamb  !  whose  beams  alone 
Irradiate  that  eternal  sky ; 
The  bursting  blaze  of  Deity  ! 


ROYAL   DOMINION. 

Soft  is  the  voice  of  golden  lutes  ; 
Soft  bloom  heaven's  ambrosial  fruits ; 
Bright  beams  the  dazzling  lustre  shed, 
From  radiant  gems  in  order  spread, 
From  golden  streets,  from  emerald  floors, 
From  crystal  floods,  and  pearly  doors, 
From  rainbow  tints,  from  angel's  wings, 
And  all  unuttered  glorious  things. 

Yet,  not  that  city's  dazzling  glow, 
Nor  limpid  water's  crystal  flow, 
Nor  dulcet  harmony  that  springs 
From  golden  lyres,  nor  angel's  wings, 
Though  glistening  with  intensest  dyes, 
Reflected  from  immortal  skies, 
Completes  the  palmy  bliss  of  those 
On  whom  heaven's  pearly  portals  close. 

No !  'tis  with  unfilm'd  eyes,  to  see 

The  one  incarnate  Deity, 

Who  still,  in  lamb-like  meekness,  bears 

Imprinted  deep,  those  glorious  scars, 

"Whence  issued  wide  that  crimson  flow 

In  which  their  robes  were  washed  below, 

Which  bought    that    crown,  whose   splendor 

bright 
Now  spheres  them  in  a  world  of  light  I 


ROYAL   DOMINION.  79 

No !  'tis  not  all  that  heaven  can  show 
Of  great,  or  fair,  unglimpsed  below ; 
Nor  converse  deep  with  spirits  high 
Who  saw  those  volleyed  lightnings  fly 
Which  scathed  their  bright  compeers  in  bliss. 
And  hurPd  them  down  to  hell's  abyss  ; 
"Who  marked  creation  rise  sublime, 
And  hymned  the  early  birth  of  time : 

• 

~No  I  not  with  minds  like  these  to  blend, 
And  feel  each  angel  form  a  friend ; 
But  God,  their  fount,  to  know  and  see ; 
From  all-pervading  DEITY 
To  catch  the  nearer  burst  of  light ; 
To  gain  the  beatific  sight ; 
Entranced  in  glory's  peerless  blaze, 
Conform'd  to  HIM,  on  HIM  to  gaze. 

MRS.  BULMEE. 


80  ROYAL  DOMINION. 


\t  f  tera  jof 

i  HEN  we  say  that  the  state  of  the  other 
world  is  unknown,  the  only  meaning  of 
it  is,  that  it  is^i  state  of  such  happiness, 
so  far  beyond  anything  that  we  ever  yet 
experienced,  that  we  cannot  form  any 
notion  or  idea  of  it.  We  know  that  there  is  such  a 
happiness ;  we  know,  in  some  measure,  wherein 
such  happiness  consists ;  viz.,  in  seeing  God  and 
the  blessed  Jesus,  who  loved  us,  and  gave  Jiimself 
for  us ;  in  praising  our  Creator  and  Redeemer  ;  in 
conversing  with  saints  and  angels.  But  how  great, 
how  ravishing  and  transporting  a  pleasure  this  is, 
we  cannot  tell,  because  we  never  yet  felt  it.  E"ow, 
methinks,  this  should  not  make  the  thoughts  of 
death  uneasy  to  us,  should  not  make  us  unwilling 
to  go  to  heaven,  that  the  happiness  of  heaven  is  too 
great  for  us  to  know  or  to  conceive  in  this  world. 
For  men  are  naturally  fond  of  unknown  and 
untried  pleasures ;  which  is  so  far  from  being  a  dis 
paragement  to  them,  that  it  raises  our  expectations 


EOTAL  DOMINION.  81 

of  them,  that  they  are  unknown.  In  the  things  of 
this  world,  enjoyment  usually  lessens  our  esteem 
and  value  for  them,  and  we  always  value  that  most 
which  we  have  never  tried ;  and  methinks  the  hap 
piness  of  the  other  world  should  not  be  the  only 
thing  we  despise  before  we  try  it.  It  is  some  en 
couragement  to  us  that  the  happiness  of  heaven  is 
too  big  to  be  known  in  this  world ;  for  did  we  per 
fectly  know  it  now,  it  could  not  be  very  great. 

Sherlock  on  Death. 


82  ROYAL   DOMINION. 


"They   rest     not    day    and    night 

HEY  rest  not  day  and  night, 

Eacli  hour  the  anthem  swells ; 
With  ever  new  delight, 

The  tongue  untiring  dwells : — 
O  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord, 
Thou  Father,  Spirit,  Word, 
Our  humble  voices  hear. 

Still  endless  ages  roll, 

And  Time  himself  stands  still ; 
Still  from  the  vaulted  pole 

The  listening  ear  shall  fill : — 
Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord, 
Thou  Father,  Spirit,  Word, 

Our  humble  voices  hear. 

Of  worlds  which  deck  the  sky, 

Each  has  its  note  of  praise 
Joined  in  the  melody 


EOYAL   DOMINION.  83 

Of  stars,  which  sing  God's  grace : — 
O  holy  God,  give  ear, 
While  each  revolving  sphere, 

Conspires*  the  soul  to  raise. 

Through  yon  cathedral  high, 

Whose  architect  is  God, 
The  blended  echoes  fly 

O'er  hill,  and  plain,  and  flood : — 
O,  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord, 
Is  still  the  ceaseless  word 

Through  all  that  bright  abode. 

But  best  of  all  it  comes 

From  infant  voices  sweet ; 
From  those  whose  happy  homes 

Are  at  their  Saviour's  feet. 
And  thus  they  look  and  sing, 
Admitting,  as  their  voices  ring, 

The  wonders  of  His  grace. 

They  rest  not  day  and  night, 
Nor  would  they  lose  one  strain; 

For  all  things  there  unite 
To  banish  tears  and  pain — 

To  catch  the  echo  wild, 

So  bold,  so  soft,  so  mild, 

To  catch  the  heavenly  strain. 


KOYAL  DOMINION. 

While  envious  earth  may  blend 

Her  discords  in  a  swell, 
Nor  evermore  offend, 

With  shouts  of  demons  "fell : 
The  endless  sound  goes  on, 
Around  the  dazzling  throne — 

That  song  they  love  so  well. 

Eev.  THOMAS  A.  COOK. 


KOYAL   DOMINION.  85 


iglrt,  %  Wa&  anfr  t\t  I«t|. 

Lord,  who  art  the  Light,  the  Way,  the 
Truth,  the  Life  ;  in  whom  there  is  no  dark 
ness,  error,  vanity,  nor  death ;  the  Light, 
without  which  is  darkness ;  the  Way,  with 
out  which  there  is  wandering ;  the  Truth, 
without  which  there  is  error  ;  the  Life,  without  which 
there  is  death ;  say,  Lord,  let  there  be  light,  and  I 
shall  see  light,  and  eschew  darkness ;  I  shall  see 
the  way,  and  avoid  wandering ;  I  shall  see  truth, 
and  shun  error ;  I  shall  see  life,  and  escape  death  ; 
illuminate,  Oh,  illuminate  my  blind  soul,  which  sit- 
teth  in  darkness  and  the  shadow  of  death ;  and 
direct  my  feet  in  the  way  of  peace. 

SAINT  AUGUSTINE. 


86  ROYAL   DOMINION. 


gmrnwim  jof  Clrrisl 


E,  tlie  Father  infinite, 
Turning,  addressed  Messiah,  where  he  sat 
Exalted  gloriously,  at  His  right  hand. 
This  day  belongs  to  Justice,  and  to  Thee, 
Eternal  Son  !  Thy  right  for  service  done 
Abundantly  fulfilling  all  my  will  ; 
By  promise  Thine,  from  all  eternity, 
Made  in  the  ancient  Covenant  of  Grace  ; 
And  Thine,  as  most  befitting,  since  in  Thee 
Divine  and  human  meet,  impartial  Judge, 
Consulting  thus  the  interests  of  both. 
Go  then,  my  Son,  divine  similitude  ! 
Image  express,  of  Deity  unseen  ! 
The  book  of  my  remembrance  take  ;  and  take 
The  golden  crowns  of  life,  due  to  the  saints  ; 
Thy  armor  take  ;  gird  on  thy  sword,  thy  sword 
Of  justice  ultimate,  reserved,  till  now 
Unsheathed,  in  the  eternal  armory  ; 
And  mount  the  living  chariot  of  God. 
Thou  goest  not  now,  as  once  to  Calvary, 


ROYAL   DOMINION.  87 

To  be  insulted,  buffeted,  and  slain ; 
Thou  goest  not  now  with  battle,  and  the  voice 
Of  war,  as  once  against  the  rebel  hosts : 
Thou  goest  a  Judge,  and  find'st  the  guilty  bound  : 
Thou  goest  to  prove,  condemn,  acquit,  reward ; 
Not  unaccompanied ;  all  these,  my  saints 
Go  with  Thee,  glorious  retinue !  to  sing 
Thy  triumph,  and  participate  Thy  joy ; 
And  I,  the  Omnipresent  with  Thee  go ; 
And  with  Thee,  all  the  glory  of  my  throne. 
***** 
And  all  His  saints,  and  all  His  angel  bands, 
As,  glorious,  they  on  high  ascended,  sung 
Glory  to  God,  and  to  the  Lamb  !  they  sung 
Messiah  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men, 
And  altogether  lovely.    "  Grace  is  poured 
Into  Thy  lips,  above  all  measure  poured ; 
And  therefore  God  hath  blessed  Thee  evermore. 
Gird,  gird  Thy  sword  upon  Thy  thigh,  O  Thou 
Most  Mighty  !  with  Thy  glory  ride  ;  with  all 
Thy  majesty,  ride  prosperously,  because 
Of  meekness,  truth,  and  righteousness.    Thy  throne, 
O  God,  forever  and  forever  stands  : 
The  sceptre  of  Thy  kingdom  still  is  right ; 
Therefore  hath  God,  Thy  God,  anointed  Thee, 
With  oil  of  gladness,  and  perfumes  of  myrrh, 


88  KOYAL  DOMINION. 

Out  of  the  ivory  palaces,  above 
Thy  fellows,  crowned  the  Prince  of  Endless  Peace." 
Thus  sung  they  God,  their  Saviour ;  and  themselves, 
Prepared  complete  to  enter  now  with  Christ, 
Their  living  Head,  into  the  Holy  Place. 

Pollock's  "  Course  of  Time." 


tframlfc. 

John.  Refreshing  Ijight. 

"  Because  the  darkness  is  past,  and  the  true  light  now  shineth." 

IE  EMEKALD  or  smaragdus  is  the  pre 
cious  stone  of  the  fourth  foundation  of  the 
Celestial  City,  where  it  is  sealed  with  the 
name  of  John.  Among  all  the  precious 
minerals  there  is  none  other  so  grateful  to 
the  sight  as  the  emerald,  for  its  intense  and  admir 
able  greenness,  entirely  free  from  the  admixture  of 
either  yellow  or  blue,  and  likewise  for  its  pellucid 
clearness.  To  the  wearied  eye  there  is  no  color  so 
refreshing  or  salutary  as  pure  grass-green.  When 
satiated  with  the  gaudy  beauties  of  the  gay  par 
terre,  gladly  do  we  turn  for  relief  to  the  cool  ver 
dure  of  the  lawn.  The  emerald,  by  its  delightful 
color  and  brightness,  seems  to  suggest  its  own 
interpretation — REFKESHING  LIGHT.  In  value  it 
ranks  nearly  as  high  as  the  diamond,  and  it  was 
considered  as  one  of  the  choicest  exjfbrts  of  ancient 
Tyre.  It  used  to  be  worn  as  an  amulet  and  prized 
as  a  remedy  for  epilepsy.  Not  an  inapt  symbol  is 


90  REFRESHING   LIGHT. 

it  of  the  eternal  verdure  that  borders  the  holy 
stream  from  which  quaff  the  immaculate  citizens. 
John,  in  his  vision,  beheld  a  rainbow  around 
about  the  throne,  in  sight  like  unto  an  emerald. 

St.  John,  being  the  fourth  on  the  list  of  apostles, 
to  him,  therefore,  is  assigned  this  gem ;  and  appro 
priately,  too,  for  no  other  saint  (except  Paul)  was 
ever  favored,  while  yet  in  the  body,  by  beholding 
such  refreshing  and  glorious  scenes  as  was  the 
beloved  disciple.  With  the  anticipation  of  these 
ineffable  pleasures  glowing  warm  within  his  soul, 
what  must  have  been  the  exultation  of  John,  when, 
at  length,  was  given  the  signal  that  closed  his  toil 
some  pilgrimage  of  ninety  years,  consecrated  from 
early  manhood  to  the  service  of  his  divine  Lord ! 
how  joyfully  was  sped  his  flight  to  once  more 
recline  his  weary  head,  silvered  now  with  the  frosts 
of  age,  on  that  adorable  bosom  where  had  been  so 
often  soothed  his  every  sorrow ! 

From  the  representations  of  the  early  painters, 
we  have  in  our  minds,  generally,  a  model  of  St. 
John  as  a  fair  and  beautiful  youth  with  luxuriant 
flowing  locks.  And  it  is  thus  that  we  love  to 
regard  him ;  to  us  he  is  a  being  of  angelic  comeli 
ness.  Such,  in  spirit,  he  remained  until  the  end  of 
his  life.  St.  John  seemed  to  be  baptized  with  the 


REFRESHING   LIGHT.  91 

fire  of  love;  not  a  mere  sentimental  emotion,  but  a 
vital,  living  principle.  In  sublimity  he  soars  far 
above  the  other  evangelists ;  for  while  they  begin 
by  tracing  the  human  lineage  of  our  Lord,  he  at 
once  opens  with  His  essential  Divinity.  u  Little 
children,  love  one  another," — often,  when  age  and 
feebleness  precluded  his  saying  more  to  his  beloved 
flock  at  Ephesus, — was  the  simple  sentence  that  con 
stituted  his  entire  sermon.  Perhaps  the  nearest 
assimulation  in  character,  apart  from  inspiration — 
to  the  seraphic  sweetness  of  John,  was  that  of  the 
distinguished  Fletcher  of  Madeley,  who  seemed, 
even  while  on  earth,  to  dwell  in  heaven.  What 
supreme  bliss  must  such  sympathetic  souls  enjoy 
together  to  all  eternity !  May  we,  the  bewildering 
labyrinths  of  this  world  traversed,  be  so  happy  as 
to  roam  with  our  loved  ones  the  green  delicious 
meads  of  the  Paradise  of  God!  May  we,  worn 
wayfarers,  the  darkness  of  sin  and  of  the  grave  for 
ever  past,  be  permitted  to  bask  in  the  refulgence  of 
the  true  light  that  shineth  forever,  and  irradiates 
with  its  fadeless  beams  the  immortal  regions !  Said 
a  gifted  young  American  artist,  when  dying,  not 
long  since,  at  Florence,  "I  am  journeying  to  a 
strange  country,  but  oh,  how  beautiful!",  and 
expired,  humming  a  favorite  Spanish  melody. 


REFRESHING   LIGHT. 

"These  flowers  are  very  beautiful,"  said  another 
young  artist,  to  one,  who,  the  day  before  his  depar 
ture  hence  brought  him  some  winter  roses ;  "  but  I 
am  going  to  a  country  where  the  flowers  never 
fade."  And  a  third  young  son  of  genius  whispered 
to  me  when  the  power  of  swallowing  had  failed 
him,  "  I  am  thirsty ;  the  waters  of  life  will  be  60 
sweet."  But  a  very  brief  space  elapsed  ere  the 
Shepherd  Divine  was  leading  him  through  green 
pastures  and  by  the  still  waters. 

O  blessed,  thrice  blessed  hour !  when,  the  dream 
of  life  with  its  manifold  fluctuations  all  over,  its 
pains,  sorrows,  and  disappointments  forever  van 
ished  away,  we  behold  the  Eternal  City,  all  iri 
descent  with  gems  and  burnished  gold!  When, 
advancing  to  hail  us  with  glad  welcomes,  we  espy 
the  dear  ones,  whom  here  below,  with  swelling 
hearts  and  many  a  bitter  lamentation,  we  consigned 
to  the  tomb  !  Sing  aloud,  dumb  heart !  cease  thy 
moan,  sad  spirit!  that  moment  alone  of  transport 
will  suffice  to  recompense  thee  for  ages  of  earth- 
born  grief !  Light  Supreme,  so  guide  us  through 
this  darksome  wild,  "  that  through  the  grave,  and 
gate  of  death,"  we  may,  in  the  Great  Day  of  Har 
vest  Home,  "  pass  to  our  joyful  resurrection !" 

A.  B.  G. 


REFRESHING  LIGHT.  93 


fltyt  Pst  golifts. 

) Y  sky's  unveiled ; 
My  saints'   sweet    home    bursts    on   my 

ravish'd  sight; 

I  see  it,  and  my  eye,  unsealed, 
Turns  towards  its  holy  light. 

'Tis  not  a  dream, 
But  'tis  a  bright  and  blessed  reality  ; 

Its  brilliant  glories  o'er  me  gleam  ; 
My  vision's  clear  and. free. 

The  conflict's  o'er ; 
And  the  fierce,  fiery,  hard-won  fight  is  past ; 

My  vanquished  foes  will  rise  no  more  ; 
The  victory 's  gained  at  last. 

The  night  is  gone  ; 
The  deepening  shadows  all  forever  fled, 

And  the  blest  light  of  that  clear  sun 
Now  shineth  on  my  head. 

I'm  basking  now 
In  light  that  never  beamed  on  mortal  eye ; 


REFRESHING   LIGHT. 

Ambrosial  zephyrs  fan  iny  brow ; 
Sweet  fields  before  me  lie. 

Oh,  this  is  bliss ! 
I  tread  upon  Immanuel's  promised  land  ; 

Forms  of  unrivalled  loveliness 
Around  me  smiling  stand. 

I  hear  the  sound 
Of  voices  blending  in  angelic  strains  ; 

And  the  sweet  cadence  wafted  round, 
Rolls  o'er  the  heavenly  plains. 

My  spirit  thrills 
"With  holy  rapture  never  felt  before, 

And  peace  my  ransomed  being  fills, 
That  floweth  evermore. 

Jerusalem  is  here — 
Oh,  how  its  burnish'd  courts  do  shine ! 

Glittering  with  beauty,  gems  most  clear, 
And  pearls — and  all  is  mine ! 

And  this  is  heaven  ! 
Long,  long  lost  friends  are  coming  at  my  call ; 

Eternal  life  to  me  is  given, 
And  God  is  all  in  all. 


EEFKESHING   LIGHT.  95 


LATE  young  gentleman,  of  Pittsburg, 
remarked,  when  he  was  dying,  "  Mother, 
I  can  see  a  great  distance!"  Doubtless 
this  is  the  experience,  beautifully  ex 
pressed,  of  every  one  who  comes  with 
a  chastened  faith  to  a  calm  death-bed.  In  his  pro 
gress  through  ordinary  life,  the  vapors  that  float 
in  the  mental  atmosphere  render  the  vision  imper 
fect,  and  he  cannot  see  afar  off ;  but  as  he  draws 
near  eternity,  the  air  grows  purer,  the  light  brighter, 
the  vision  clearer,  and  the  serenity  pervades  the 
whole  being ;  the  vista  of  futurity  opens  upon  the 
eyes  of  the  soul ;  he  beholds  the  gates  of  heaven,  the 
river  of  life,  its  glad  waters  kissing  the  footsteps 
of  the  throne  of  God ;  the  glories  of  the  new  world 
grow  brighter  and  brighter  upon  him.  "With 
Stephen,  he  beholds  Jesus  at  the  right  hand  of  His 
Father ;  and  as  he  dwells  with  rapture  on  those 
enlivening  sights,  the  earth  and  all  its  scenery 


96  REFRESHING   LIGHT. 

grow  dim  about  him,  and,  like  Elista's  servant  at 
the  gate  of  Damascus,  he  is  instantly  environed 
with  troops  of  angels,  come  to  take  him  up  over 
the  everlasting  hills  in  the  chariot  of  the  Lord. 

YT.  CHEON. 


REFRESHING    LIGHT.  97 


®{r*  latter 

GOD,  I  love  to  meditate  on  Thee — 
To  think  upon  Thy  works,  Thy  words, 

Thy  ways ; 

And  in  another  world  my  work  shall  be 
To  bless  Thy  name,  to  dwell  upon  Thy 

praise. 
I  love  to  think  upon  that  world  of  light 

Where  Jesus  reigns — that  better  world  above, 
Where  faith  and  hope  are  perfected  in  sight ; 

Where  Thou  art  known  in  truth  and  served  in 
love. 

The  surges  beat  not  on  that  happy  shore; 

No  wave  of  sorrow  there  shall  ever  rise  ; 
For  sin  in  all  its  forms  is  known  no  more, 

And  death,  with  all  its  power,  forever  dies. 
Mortality's  sad  tears  have  ceased  to  flow  ; 

Tumultuous  passions  and  corroding  care, 
With  all  that  agitates  this  scene  below, 

Can  to  no  bosom  find  admission  there. 
5 


98  REFRESHING    LIGHT. 

There  all  is  righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy ; 

Those  who  have  labored  enter  into  rest — 
A  rest  no  adversary  shall  destroy, 

~No  enemy  shall  enter  to  molest. 
Rich,  incorruptible,  and  uridefiled, 

Is  that  inheritance  so  freely  given 
To  every  one,  who,  as  a  little  child, 

Has    humbly   sought   and   walk'd    the  way  to 
heaven. 

One  Blessed  Spirit  binds  the  happy  band, 

Whose  feet,  while  here,  in  faith  and  patience  trod 
The  narrow  way  to  that  delightsome  land — 

It  is  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  their  God. 
Perfect  in  knowledge,  they  behold  Thy  face, 

Thou  God  of  Truth,  in  glory,  and  adore ; 
Perfect  in  love  with  Thee,  the  God  of  grace, 

And  with  each  other,  one  foreverrnore. 

Pure  is  their  light,  refulgent,  yet  serene  ; 

The  cheering  atmosphere  they  breathe  on  high ; 
Xo  shade  of  gloom  shall  ever  intervene, 

To  darken  over  their  unclouded  sky. 
Oh,  blessed  hope  of  everlasting  life  ! 

My  soul's  anticipation  day  by  day ; 
lill  from  this  changing  world  and  all  its  strife, 

To  that  far  better  world  she  soars  away. 


REFRESHING   LIGHT.  99 


HE  was  a  fair  child,  with  masses  of  long 
black  hair  lying  over  her  pillow.  Her  eye 
was  dark  and  piercing,  and  as  it  met  mine 
she  startled  slightly,  but  smiled  and  looked 
upward.  I  spoke  a  few  words  to  her  father, 
and  turning  to  her,  asked  her  if  she  knew  her  con 
dition. 

"  I  know  that  my  Eedeemer  liveth,"  said  she,  in 
a  voice  whose  melody  was  like  the  sweetest  strain  of 
the  ^Eolian  harp.  You  may  imagine  that  the  answer 
startled  me,  and  with  a  very  few  words  of  the  like 
import,  I  turned  from  her.  A  half  hour  passed, 
and  she  spoke  in  the  same  deep,  rich,  melodious 
voice — 

"  Father,  I  am  cold— lie  down  beside  me ;"  and 
the  old  man  lay  down  by  his  dying  child,  and  she 
twined  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  murmured 
in  a  dreamy  voice,  "  Dear  father,  dear  father !" 

"My  child,"  said  the  man,  «  doth  the  flood  seem 
deep  to  thee  ?" 


100  REFRESHING   LIGHT. 

"  Nay,  father,  for  my  soul  is  strong." 

"  Seest  thou  the  thither  shore  ?" 

"  I  see  it,  father — and  its  banks  are  green  with 
immortal  verdure." 

"  Hearest  thou  the  voices  of  its  inhabitants  ?" 

"  I  hear  them,  father,  as  the  voices  of  angels, 
falling  from  afar  in  the  still  and  solemn  night-time ; 
and  they  call  me — her  voice,  too,  father,  oh,  I 
heard  it  then." 

"  Doth  she  speak  to  thee  ?" 

u  She  speaketh  in  tones  most  heavenly." 

"  Doth  she  smile  3" 

"  An  angel  smile  !  But  a  cold,  calm  smile.  But 
I  am  cold,  cold — cold  !  Father,  there  is  a  mist  in 
the  room.  You'll  be  lonely.  Is  this  death 
father?" 

"  It  is  death,  my  Mary." 

"Thank  God!" 

Sabbath  evening  came,  and  a  slow,  sad  proces 
sion  wound  through  the  forest  to  the  little  school- 
house.  There,  with  simple  rites,  the  good  clergy 
man  performed  his  duty,  and  went  to  the  grave. 
The  procession  was  short.  There  were  hardy  men 
and  rough,  in  shooting  jackets,  and  some  with  rifles 
on  their  shoulders.  But  their  warm  hearts  gave 
beauty  to  their  unshaven  faces,  as  they  stood  in 


REFRESHING   LIGHT.  101 

reverent  silence  by  the  grave.    The  river  murmured 
and  the  birds  sung,  and  so  we  buried  her. 

I  saw  the  sun  go  down  from  the  same  spot — and 
the  stars  were  bright  before  I  left — for  I  always 
had  an  idea  that  a  grave-yard  was  the  nearest  place 
to  heaven  on  earth — and,  with  old  Sir  Thomas 
Brown,  I  love  to  see  a  church  in  a  grave-yard,  for 
even  as  we  pass  through  the  place  of  graves  to  the 
Temple  of  God  on  earth,  so  we  must  pass  through 
the  grave  to  the  Temple  of  God  on  high. 


102  REFRESHING  LIGHT. 


*  f  ani  tolrirjr  w  Portal  m»s  ftwrto, 

HOUGH  Earth  has  full  many  a  beautiful 

spot, 

As  a  poet  or  painter  might  show ; 
Yet  more  lovely  and  beautiful,  holy  and 

bright, 
To  the  hopes  of  the  heart,  and  the  spirit's  glad 

sight, 
Is  the  Land  that  no  mortal  may  know. 

There  the  crystalline  stream,  bursting  forth  from 
the  throne, 

Flows  on,  and  forever  will  flow ; 
Its  waves,  as  they  roll,  are  with  melody  rife, 
And  its  waters  are  sparkling  with  beauty  and  life, 

In  the  Land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 

And  there  on  its  margin,  with  leaves  ever  green, 
With  its  fruits  healing  sickness  and  woe, 

The  fair  Tree  of  Life !  in  its  glory  and  pride, 

Is  fed  by  the  deep,  inexhaustible  tide, 
On  the  Land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 


REFRESHING   LIGHT.  103 

There,  too,  are  the  lost!  whom  we  lov'd  on  this 
earth, 

With  those  mem'ries  our  bosoms  yet  glow ; 
Their  reliques  we  gave  to  the  place  of  the  dead, 
But  their  glorified  spirits  before  us  have  fled 

To  the  Land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 

There  the  pale  orb  of  Night,  and  the  fountain  of 
Day, 

Nor  beauty  nor  splendor  bestow ; 
But  the  presence  of  Him,  the  unchanging  I  AM  ! 
And  the  holy,  the  pure,  the  immaculate  Lamb ! 

Light  the  Land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 

Oh,  who  must  but  pine  in  this  dark  vale  of  tears, 

From  its  clouds  and  its  shadows  to  go  ; 
To  walk  in  the  light  of  the  glory  above, 
And  to  share  in  the  peace,  and  the  joy,  and  the  love, 
Of  the  Land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 

BERNARD  BARTON. 


104  REFRESHING   LIGHT. 


f  jimpg  tar  %  ffcatels  Citg. 

)ET  us  advance  on  the  way  of  life,  and  return 
to  the  heavenly  city,  where  we  shall  be 
fellow-citizens,  and  of  the  household  of  God. 
Let  us  gaze  on  its  glory  so  far  as  we  can 
with  mortal  vision.  It  stands  written  of  it, 
that  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away.  There 
is  no  age,  nor  toil  of  age,  for  all  have  come  to  the 
stature  of  perfect  men  in  Christ.  What  can  be 
happier  than  such  a  life,  where  there  is  no  poverty 
to  fear,  no  sickness  to  suffer,  where  no  one  will 
hurt,  none  is  angry,  no  impure  passion  excites,  no 
hunger  gnaws,  no  ambition  torments,  no  devil  ter 
rifies,  no  hell  threatens?  Evil  and  strife  are  far 
away.  Peace  and  joy  evermore  reign.  The  night 
is  far  spent,  the  clouds  scatter,  an  illustrious  day  is 
breaking,  for  that  city  needs  no  sun,  nor  moon, 
but  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  enlighten  it,  and 
the  Lamb  is  the  light  of  it.  Why  do  we  not 
hasten  in  faith  and  love  to  our  native  land?  A 
great  multitude  there  awaits  us.  What  joy,  whr 


REFBESHING-  LIGHT.  105 

jubilee  for  them  and  for  us,  when  we  can  again 
see  and  embrace  them !  Well,  then,  let  us  look 
unto  Christ.  He  is  the  Author  of  Salvation,  and 
Prince  of  light ;  the  Source  of  joy. 


5* 


106  KEFKESHING   LIGHT. 


,  ROTHER,  thou  art  gone  before  us,  and  thy 

saintly  soul  is  flown 

Where  tears  are  wiped  from  every  eye,  and 
1<|P  sorrow  is  unknown  ; 

From  the  burden  of  the  flesh,  and  from 

care  and  fear  releas'd, 

Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest. 

The  toilsome  way  thou'st  travell'd  o'er,  and  borne 

the  heavy  load, 
But  Christ  hath  taught  thy  languid  feet  to  reach 

His  blest  abode, 
Thou'rt    sleeping    now,    like    Lazarus    upon    his 

Father's  breast, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

Sin  can  never  taint  thee  now,  nor  doubt  thy  faith 

assail, 

thy  meek  trust  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit,  fail, 


REFRESHING   LIGHT.  107 

And  now  thou'rt  sure  to.meet  the  good,  whom  on 

earth  thou  lovest  best, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

"  Earth  to  earth,"  and  "  dust  to  dust,"  the  solemn 
priest  hath  said, 

So  we  lay  the  turf  above  thee  now,  and  seal  thy 
narrow  bed ; 

But  thy  spirit,  brother,  soars  away  among  the  faith 
ful  blest, 

Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest. 

And  when  the  Lord  shall  summon  us,  whom  thou 
hast  left  behind, 

May  we,  untainted  by  the  world,  as  sure  a  welcome 
find: 

May  each,  like  thee,  depart  in  peace,  to  be  a  glori 
ous  guest, 

Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest ! 

REV.  DR.  MILMAN. 


108 


REFRESHING   LIGHT. 


f  npratimi  for 

i  HEN"  you  lie  down  at  night,  compose  your 
spirits  as  if  you  were  not  to  awake  till 
the  heavens  be  no  more.  And  when  you 
awake  in  the  morning,  consider  that  new 
day  as  your  last,  and  live  accordingly. 
Surely  that  night  cometh  of  which  you  will  never 
see  the  morning,  or  that  morning  of  which  you 
will  never  see  the  night ;  but  which  of  your  morn 
ings  or  nights  will  be  such,  you  know  not.  Let 
the  mantle  of  worldly  enjoyment  hang  loose  about 
you,  that  it  may  be  easily  dropped  when  death 
comes  to  carry  you  into  another  world.  When 
the  corn  is  forsaking  the  ground,  it  is  ready  for 
the  sickle :  when  the  fruit  is  ripe  it  falls  off  the 
tree  easily.  So  when  a  Christian's  heart  is  truly 
weaned  from  the  world,  he  is  prepared  for  death, 
and  it  will  be  the  more  easy  for  him.  A  heart  disen 
gaged  from  the  world  is  a  heavenly  one,  and  then 
we  are  ready  for  heaven,  when  our  heart  is  there 
before  us. 

BUKTON. 


IPhilip.  Love. 

"Lord,  shew  us  the  Father,  and  if  sufficeth  us." 

)HE  SARDONYX  is  the  precious  stone  of 
the  fifth  foundation  of  the  Paradise  of  God, 
where  it  bears  the  name  of  Philip.  The 
onyx,  a  gem  translucent,  derived  its  appel 
lation  from  the  finger-nail,  which  it  resem 
bles,  being  of  a  pale  red  with  white  zones.  The 
prefix,  sard,  may  denote  either  an  admixture  of  the 
sardius,  or  its  native  country,  Sardis,  a  city  of 
Asia.  In  ascribing  to  this  gem  the  interpretation 
LOVE,  I  have  been  guided  by  the  perfect  character 
of  Joseph,  whose  name  it  bore  on  the  Breast-Plate, 
the  most  generous  and  affectionate  mortal  who 
ever  rendered  immortal  the  title  of  brother.  That 
the  onyx,  which  is  sometimes  also  called  the 
banded  agate,  was  very  highly  valued,  is  obvious 
from  the  sacred  purposes  to  which  it  was  dedicated. 
Besides  occupying  the  eleventh  place  upon  the 
Breast-Plate,  of  this  gem  were  also  made  the  two 


100 


110  LOVE. 

large  buttons  or  brooches  set  in  sockets  of  gold  and 
engraven  with  the  names  of  the  twelve  sons  of 
Jacob,  which  were  fastened  on  the  shoulders  of 
Aaron's  priestly  robe.  As  has  been  previously 
observed,  these  poetical  significations  of  the  pre 
cious  stones  under  consideration,  are  not  offered 
as  positive  deductions  from  either  Holy  Writ,  or  the 
opinions  of  Commentators  ;  but  as  inferences  drawn 
from  their  own  qualities  and  those  of  the  personages 
whom  they  typify.  Analogies,  however  ingenious 
we  must  be  wary  of  carrying  too  far,  lest  we 
infringe  upon  sacred  boundaries,  and  a  laudable 
spirit  of  inquiry  degenerate  into  unwarrantable 
conceits ; — but,  amid  the  towering  palm-trees  and 
spreading  cedars  of  Scripture  truth,  does  it  appear 
amiss  or  irreverent,  that  its  minor  objects  of  revela 
tion — its  fragrant  incense — its  resounding  harmonies 
— its  lovely  flowerets,  and  resplendent  gems, 
should  be  viewed  as  the  beautiful  clouds,  and  airs, 
and  blossoms,  and  jewels,  that  intermingle  with  and 
decorate  their  branches  ?  If  so,  perish  every  such 
fanciful  imagination!  But  I  cannot  deem  these 
meditations,  or  any  other  that  tend  to  celestialize 
the  mind,  unlawful. 

Love  is  the  brightest  of  all  the  fair  sisterhood  of 
graces.      Love   is   the   fountain   undefiled,  whence 


LOVE.        .  Ill 

flow  all  pleasant  waters.  Love  is  a  never-failing 
spring  of  contentment  both  to  its  minister  and  to 
its  receiver.  u  God  is  love,"  saith  John  ;  and  the 
testimony  of  Paul  is:  "And  now  abideth  faith, 
hope,  charity,  these  three;  but  the  greatest  of 
these  is  charity"  (love).  Love  to  the  person  of 
Christ,  the  altogether  lovely,  more  than  a  clear  con 
viction  of  His  Divine  mission,  appears  to  have 
actuated  many  of  the  disciples  in  following  Him ; 
nor  until  after  His  Resurrection  and  Ascension,  were 
their  minds  fully  established  in  respect  to  the  real 
nature  of  His  Kingdom  and  Reign.  "  Lord,  shew 
us  the  Father,  and  it  sufficeth  us,"  said  St.  Philip ; 
and  we  marvel  much  at  the  obtuseness  manifested 
by  this  man  who  had  been  witness  of  so  many 
signs  and  wonders.  From  our  hearts  the  petition 
is  one  that  may  with  perfect  propriety  arise.  As 
Jesus  Christ  promises  that  upon  him  who  over- 
cometh  the  world,  He  will  write  the  name  of  His 
God,  the  name  of  the  city  of  His  God,  and  His 
own  new  name — all  genuine  believers  may  be  con 
sidered  as  sealed  with  the  mystical  characters 
which  adorn  the  gems  of  the  Upper  Zion.  "  His 
name  shall  be  in  their  foreheads."  Are  we 
marked  ?  One  with  Love,  another  with  Humility, 
another  with  Heavenly-Mindedness,  another  with 


112  LOVE. 

Truth  ?  do  we  each  bear  a  divine  hieroglyph  ?  If 
not,  let  us  implore  Him,  the  radiant  guiding-star  of 
Love,  that,  ere  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  He  seal 
us  with  His  royal  signet.  And  thus,  when  the 
heavens  wax  old,  and  are  folded  up  as  a  vesture, 
we  shall  be  exulting  in  Love  Divine  amid  the  shin 
ing  ranks  of  the  Blessed  ! 

A.  B.  G. 


LOVE.  113 


of 


'YE  come,  I've  come,  from  the  spirit's  land, 

And  a  treasured  song  is  mine  ; 
I  bear  for  the  wounded  heart  a  balm, 
And  a  joy  for  those  that  pine. 

The  friends  that  ye  bade  on  earth  "  good  bye," 

With  cheeks  so  pale  and  wan, 
They  are  there  in  the  light  of  a  cloudless  sky, 

And  their  all  of  grief  is  done. 

The  chieftain  that  left  his  bow  unstrung, 

The  sage  with  his  locks  of  snow, 
And  the  maid  whose  voice  like  the  nightbird'srung, 

In  its  plaintiveness  of  woe  ; 

And  the  youth  with  the  laughing  eye  is  there, 

And  the  mother  who  left  her  babe 
Swinging  to  and  fro  in  the  summer  air, 

Beneath  the  sycamore's  shade. 


114:  LOVE. 

They  sit  on  the  banks  where  the  bright  flowers 

gleam, 

And  they  dream  not  of  toil  nor  pain ; 
For  they've  drank  of  the  fount  with  the  golden 

stream ; 
They  have  drank — and  are  young  again. 

And  they  bade  me  speed  with  my  glittering  wing, 
From  the  realm  of  the  nightless  day, 

To  the  dim  old  groves  where  they  loved  to  sing, 
And  thus  to  the  mourning  say : 

We  tune  our  harps  by  the  bright  blue  streams, 

That  lave  on  a  gem-clad  shore ; 
And  our  lives  are  sweet  as  an  infant's  dreams, 

And  we  sigh  not,  nor  weep  we  more. 

We  are  changed  from  the  sick  and  the  sad  of  earth, 

To  a  band  that  know  not  care ; 
But  our  hearts  still  yearn  toward  our  native  hearth, 

And  the  friends  we  loved  while  there. 

We  watch  ye,  friends,  when  the  night-winds  breath 

Lies  hushed  over  moor  and  hill: 
For  love  extends  past  the  bourne  of  death — 

We  have  loved  and  we  love  ye  still. 


LOVE.  115 

"We  are  there  unseen  by  the  home-fire's  blaze, 

As  our  tales  ye  repeat  again : 
When  ye  sing  the  song  of  other  days — 

We  are  there,  and  we  bless  ye  then. 

And  we  hover  o'er  when  the  hour  of  prayer 

Comes  on,  at  the  close  of  even — 
Midst  the  hallowed  family  band  we're  there, 

And  we  bear  those  prayers  to  Heaven. 

EDWAED  YOUNG,  Esq. 


116  LOVE. 


n 


MUST  confess,  as  the  experience  of  my  own 
soul,  that  the  expectation  of  loving  my 
friends  in  heaven  principally  kindles  my 
love  to  them  while  on  earth.  If  I  thought  I 
should  never  know  them,  and,  consequently, 
never  love  them  after  this  life  is  ended,  I  should 
number  them  with  temporal  things,  and  love  them 
as  such  ;  but  now  I  delightfully  converse  with  my 
pious  friends,  in  a  firm  persuasion  that  I  shall  con 
verse  with  them  forever;  and  I  take  comfort  in 
those  that  are  dead  or  absent,  believing  that  I  shall 
shortly  meet  them  in  heaven  and  love  them  with  a 

heavenly  love. 

BAXTER. 


LOVE.  117 


Wm  farm 


SHINE  in  the  light  of  God, 

His  image  stamps  my  brow, 
Through  the  shadows  of  death  my  feet  have 

trod, 

I  reign  in  glory  now  ; 
No  breaking  heart  is  here, 

No  keen  and  thrilling  pain, 
No  wasted  cheek  where  the  frequent  tear 
Hath  rolled  and  left  its  stain. 

I  have  found  the  joys  of  heaven, 

I  am  one  of  the  angel  band, 
To  my  head  a  crown  of  gold  is  given, 

And  a  harp  is  in  my  hand  ; 
I  have  learn'd  the  song  they  sing, 

Whom  Jesus  hath  set  free, 
And  the  glorious  walls  of  heaven  still  ring, 

With  my  new-born  melody. 

No  sins,  no  griefs,  no  pains, 
Safe  in  my  happy  home, 


118  LOVE. 

My  fears  all  fled,  my  foes  all  slain, 

My  hour  of  triumph  come ; 
Oh,  friends  of  my  mortal  years, 

The  trusted  and  the  true  ! 
Ye  are  walking  still  through  the  vale  of  tears, 

But  I  wait  to  welcome  you. 

Do  I  forget  ?    Ah,  no  ! 

For  memory's  golden  chain 
Shall  bind  my  heart  to  the  hearts  below, 

Till  they  meet  and  touch  again ; 
Each  link  is  strong  and  bright, 

And  love's  eclectic  flame 
Flows  freely  down  like  a  river  of  light, 

To  the  world  from  which  I  came. 

Do  you  mourn  when  another  star 

Shines  out  from  the  glittering  sky  ? 
Do  you  weep,  when  the  raging  voice  of  war, 

Or  the  storms  of  conflict  die  ? 
Then  why  should  your  tears  run  down, 

And  your  hearts  be  sorely  riven, 
For  another  gem  in  the  Saviour's  crown, 

And  another  soul  in  Heaven ! 


LOVE.  119 


"Sfort  ««  Stogie  Vatt" 


J^  old  negro  in  the  West  Indies,  residing  at 
a  considerable  distance  from  the  missionary, 
but  exceedingly  desirous  of  learning  to 
read  the  Bible,  came  to  him  regularly  for  a 
lesson.  He  made  but  little  progress,  and 
his  teacher,  almost  disheartened,  intimated  his  fears 
that  his  labors  would  be  lost,  and  asked  him,  "  Had 
you  not  better  give  it  over  ?"  "  No  massa,"  said  he, 
with  great  energy,  "  Me  never  give  it  over  till  me 
die  ;"  and,  pointing  with  his  finger  to  John,  third 
chapter,  and  sixteenth  verse  :  "  God  so  loved  the 
world,"  etc.,  added,  with  touching  emphasis  :  "  It 
is  worth  all  de  labor  to  be  able  to  read  dat  one  sin 
gle  verse." 


120 


LOYE. 


OW  could  they  tell  me  she  was  dead, 

With  such  a  calm  cold  tone, 
She  whom  I  loved  beyond  my  life, 

My  precious  one,  my  own  ? 
And  yet  they  did  not  know  that  she, 
The  lost  one,  was  so  dear  to  me. 

I  heard  it  with  a  pale,  calm  cheek, 

No  tear  was  in  my  eye ; 
I  could  not  bear  that  men  should  look 

Upon  my  agony ; 
And  so  I  coldly  turned  away, 
Almost  as  carelessly  as  they. 

I  wonder  if  they've  planted  flowers 

Above  her  early  bed — 
I  wonder  if  the  mourning  tree 

Sighs  sadly  o'er  her  head  ; 
Or  if  kind  friends  are  there  to  weep, 
Above  her  calm  and  dreamless  sleep. 


LOYE.  121 

And  who  were  near  to  lay  their  hands 

Upon  her  burning  brow, 
And  speak  those  words  of  hope  and  cheer 

That  would  be  mock'ry  now  ? 
Or  point  her  feeble  faith  to  Thee, 
Thou  who  wast  slain  on  Calvary  ? 

I  know  not  if  they've  planted  flowers 

Above  her  earthly  bed ; 
I  know  not  if  the  mourning  tree 

Sighs  sadly  o'er  her  head ; 
Or  if  kind  friends  are  there  to  weep 
Above  her  calm  and  dreamless  sleep. 

But  in  my  heart  there  was  a  fount 

Of  bitter,  gushing  woe ; 
I  sought  to  be  alone,  that  tears 

From  my  sad  eyes  should  flow ; 
But  tears — the  tide  of  lesser  grief, 
Eefused  to  lend  their  calm  relief. 

She  was  so  dear  to  me — so  good, 

So  beautiful  and  fair — 
With  her  kind  eyes  and  pleasant  smile. 

And  her  soft  waving  hair  I 
And  she  to  die,  nor  I  be  there 
To  listen  to  her  latest  prayer ! 
6 


122  LOVE. 

I  only  know  that  I  am  sad, 

So  desolate  and  lone : 
The  world  has  such  a  weary  look, 

And  such  an  altered  tone ! 
And  yet  I  feel  how  worse  than  vain, 
The  wish  to  call  her  back  again. 

I  know  that  mine's  a  selfish  grief, 

For  she  is  happy  now  ; 
The  stamp  of  immortality 

Is  on  her  angel  brow. 
Yet  still  my  heart  keeps  sighing  on, 
And  asking  for  the  loved  and  gone. 


LOVE.  123 


giimu* 

E,  the  Blessed  and  All-glorious  Deity,  whose 
presence  is  joy,  and  bliss,  and  Heaven,  shall 
be  the  Life,  the  Light,  the  Praise  of  the 
New  Jerusalem,  and  all  its  divine  inhabit- 
ants !  Love  shall  reign  triumphant  in  every 
heart ;  every  pure  and  celestial  desire  shall  be  gra 
tified  to  the  full;  every  holy  and  devout  affection 
shall  find  its  adequate  supply ;  and  one  uninter 
rupted  scene  of  happiness,  serenity,  and  comfort, 
shall  smile  eternally,  and  eternally  be  found ; 
where  the  harps  of  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
shall  ceaselessly  hymn  the  Father  of  Mercies,  and 
the  Lamb  who  sitteth  on  the  throne  forever  and 
ever. 

DR.  DODD. 


124:  LOVE. 


Star  jrf  f  0to. 


Y  SAVIOUK,  can  I  follow  thee, 

"When  all  is  dark  before ; 
"While  midnight  rests  upon  the  sea, 
How  can  I  reach  the  shore  ? 

Oh,  let  thy  Star  of  Love  but  shine, 
Though  with  a  feeble  ray ; 

'Twill  gild  the  edge  of  every  wave, 
And  light  my  gloomy  way. 

Then  gladly  will  I  follow  Thee, 
Though  hurricanes  appear ; 

Singing  sweet  carols  o'er  the  sea, 
A  cheerful  mariner. 


LOVE. 


125 


"  And  when  they  had  sung  a  hymn  they  went  into  the  Mount  of 
Olives." 

,USIC  in  the  Christian  Church  dates  from 
Passion  "Week,  when  the  Saviour  himself 
sung  a  hymn  with  his  disciples  the  night 
preceding  his  crucifixion.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  they  sung  one  of  the  Psalms  of 
David,  as  they  had  been  accustomed  to  do  in  the 
synagogue  ;  and  perchance  it  was  one  of  those  very 
ones  relating  to  Him  who  was  now  about  to  be 
offered  up  in  fulfillment  of  prophecy.  ~No  other 
words  than  the  plain  Psalms  were  introduced  into 
the  church  until  after  the  lapse  of  several  centuries. 
"With  them  were  celebrated  the  victories  of  Con- 
stantine,  and  all  other  grand  occasions.  Sacred 
song  was  a  source  of  delight  and  solace  to  the  early 
Christians.  Martyrs  have  sung  amid  the  flames, 
and,  in  the  height  of  their  most  exquisite  agonies, 
the  chords  of  their  spirits  have  vibrated  to  the 


126  LOVE. 

seraphic  anthems  of  Paradise.  What  a  graphic 
expression  is  that  of  St.  Ambrose : 

"The  noble  army  of  martyrs  praise  Thee !" 

for  who  so  worthy  to  pour  forth  songs  of  adoration 
and  triumph  as  they  "  who  had  come  through 
great  tribulation  !"  What  dread  of  their  persecu 
tors  could  repress  the  glowing  strains  of  the  de 
voted  Yaudois,  when,  amid  hunger,  cold,  and  deso 
lation,  they  meet  to  worship  the  living  Jehovah, 
although  the  myrmidons  of  Rome,  like  hungry 
wolves,  were  on  their  track,  even  to  their  moun 
tain  fastnesses  ?  Or  the  Scottish  Covenanters,  whose 
hymns  ofttimes  betrayed  to  the  enemy  their  hiding- 
places?  Their  music  was  with  them  a  religious 
duty,  and  it  ceased  but  with  their  lives.  Ceased  ? 
ISTo ;  it  only  paused  on  earth  to  be  resumed  in  lof 
tier,  sweeter  strains  above.  Many  persons,  in  the 
hour  of  death,  when  the  power  of  language  had 
long  failed,  have  given  vent  to  their  ecstasy  in 
exultant  melodies,  as  if  in  echo  to  the  "  seraph's 
sweet  song."  One  young  lady,  whose  voice  during 
several  hours  preceding  dissolution,  had  been 
entirely  hushed,  just  as  her  eyes  were  closing 
forever  on  all  below,  sung  distinctly  these  touching 
lines : 


LOVE.  12T 

"  There  I  shall  bathe  my  weary  soul 
In  seas  of  heavenly  rest, 
And  not  a  wave  of  trouble  roll, 
Across  my  peaceful  breast." 

"What  a  beautiful  valedictory  to  earth  ! 

"It  is  well  becoming  that  melody  be  poured 
forth  when  a  redeemed  spirit  is  pluming  its  wings, 
ready  to  depart."  There  is  an  affecting  circum 
stance  related  of  a  lovely  young  girl,  sister-in-law 
of  the  celebrated  Sheridan,  who  was  called  hence 
in  early  youth  just  before  the  time  appointed  for 
her  debut  as  a  public  singer.  A  short  time  prior  to 
her  departure,  she  raised  herself  up  in  the  bed,  and 
with  momentary  and  surprising  animation  sung  a 
part  of  the  aria,  "I  KNOW  THAT  MY  REDEEMER 
LIVETH."  Exhausted  by  the  effort,  she  sunk  into 
the  arms  of  her  attendant,  and  shortly  afterwards 

breathed  her  last. 

A.  B.  GAKRETT. 


128  LOVE. 


"We  all  will  meet  again." 

the  blessed  hope  of  everlasting  life, 
To  buoy  and  bear  the  sinking  spirit 

up; 
"Who  would  not    bravely  brook  time's 

sternest  strife, 
And  drain  the  deepest  dregs  of  sorrow's  cup  ? 
In  this  transporting  trust,  bright  through  the  mist 

of  tears, 
I  see  the  vista  ope  of  heaven's  supernal  years. 

The  garden  of  my  soul,  from  its  fair  banks, 
Once  rich  in  flowers  and  fragrance  fresh  and 

bright, 

"Where  love  and  beauty  graced  the  stately  ranks, 
And    wooed    the    heart  to   dalliance  of   de 
light;— 

From  this  charmed  haunt  of  peace,  like  meteor- 
stars  away, 
I've  seen  each  glory  fall,  and  droop  into  decay. 


LOVE. 


129 


"  We  all  will  meet  again  1" — the  parting  words 
Traced  by  thy  faltering  hand ;  while  thy  calm 

smile 

Gave  token  none  of  death,  nor  that  the  chords 
Thrilling  thy  heart's  strings — heart  so  free  of 

guile — 
Were    by    dark    Azrael    struck.      This    precious 

legacy, 
In  my  sad  heart,  beloved,  treasured  for  aye  shall  be. 

"  We  all  will  meet  again !" — how  could  we  deem 

Midway  thy  feet  were  then  in  Jordan's  flood  ? 
E'en  then; — though  in  thy  bearing  naught  did 

seem 

To  note  the  sudden  call  to  meet  thy  God. 
This  thy  adieu  to  time— this  prophecy  of  love, 
As  earnest  I  embrace  of  joys  assured  above. 

To  meet  again !     Oh,  hope  serene  and  high, 
Quickening   the  soul  to  rapture  !  'neath  that 

dome 
Lit  by  the  Godhead's  glory  ;  where  no  sigh 

E'er  grieves  the  echo,  dearest,  be  our  home  ! 
And  ours  to  meet  and  mingle  with  the  ransomed 

throng, 
Who,  robed  in  light,  their  King  extol  in  swelling 

song. 

6* 


130  LOVE. 

"We  all   will  meet    again!"    'neath  the  green 

mould 

That  wraps  our  kindred — may  our  ashes  blend 
In  peaceful  sleep  ;  till  the  world,  waxen  old 

And  ripe  for  harvest,  totters  to  its  end : 
Not  such   the   meeting   pictured  by  my  longing 

heart, 

Not  such ;  my  thoughts  rush  on  till  life  from  death 
shall  start. 

"  We  all  will  meet  again  !"  when  the  loud  trump 

To  judgment  summons  all  the  slumbering  host ; 
When  the  Judge,  shrined  in  heaven's  tremendous 

pomp, 

Cites  to  His  bar  the  rescued  and  the  lost ! 
Shall  we  His  smile  receive,  the  benison  of  the  blest, 
And  hear  the  welcome  words  "  enter  into  my  rest  ?" 

"  We  all  will  meet  again !"  as  sinners  saved, 

And  clad  in  robes  of  Christ — his  Righteous 
ness, 
All  clean  and  white,  in  His  free  fountain  laved? 

Be  ours,  such  radiant  resurrection  dress ! 
Were  not  my  trust  to  greet  thee  on  that  halcyon 

shore, 

Dear  heart,  this  soul  were  stricken,  grief  could  do 
no  more. 


LOVE. 


131 


"  We  all  will  meet  again !"  by  the  blue  stream 

That   murmurs  music  through  the  perfumed 

street  ? 
Strong  in  such  hallowed  hope,  my  every  dream 

In  pain,  in  trial,  life,  or  death  were  sweet. 
Shall  we  thus  meet,  beloved,  no  parting  more  to 

prove, 
Where  every  sound  is  euphony  and  look  is  love  ? 

To  meet  within  those  walls  of  gorgeous  blaze, 
That    forum    paved   with    gold    and   crystal 

clear, 

Those  gates  of  purest  pearl,  whose  softer  rays 
Ne'er  daze  the   eyes  uiidimmed  by   time   or 

tear ; 
Where  bloom   the   golden   fruits— where  sparkles 

purple  wine  ; 

For  such  immortal  fare  who  would  not  earth  re 
sign  ? 

To  meet  again  !  where  fond  affection's  ties 

No   more   shall   sundrance  dread;   nor  warm 

lips  chill ; 
Nor  blushing  cheeks  know  blight ;  nor  from  dear 

eyes 
The  love-light  fade  away  ;  nor  pulse  grow  still ; 


132  LOVE. 

Oh,    plains    of    matchless    bliss!     oh,    summits 

crowned  with  peace ! 
Shall  we   all  muster  there,   where   sorrows   ever 

cease? 

Memory  and  Hope,  twin  gifts  of  buried  Love, 
'Twixt  which  the   heart   vibrates!    withouten 

these 
Life  were  a  voiceless  void  ; — nor  from  above 

One  star  would  shine ;  no  retrospection  please ; 
Memory  chaunts  requiem  for  the  pleasance  passed 

away, 
And  holy  Hope  points  smiling  to  eternal  day. 

Master,  Ah  Christ !   who,  through  the  darksome 

grave 
And   gate   of  Death,  Thy  throne  didst  reas- 

sume — 
Pleading  Thy  Passion,  cry  we,  save,  oh,  save 

Us,  and  all  ours,  in  the  dread  Day  of  Doom  ! 
Leaning  on  Thee,  our  Staff — so  will  we  meet  again, 
Singing  the  saints'  sweet  song  ;  Amen,  good  Lord, 
Amen ! 

AUGUSTA  BEOWNE  GAKEETT. 


Earth,  ol  ornery.  Hnmility. 

"  Rabbi,  them  art  the  Son  of  God,  thou  art  the  King  of  Israel." 

>HE  SARDIUS,  or  cornelian,  is  the  precious 
stone  of  the  sixth  foundation  of  the  hea 
venly  Eden,  where  it  is  sealed  with  the 
name  of  Bartholomew.  This  familiar  red 
stone,  styled  by  mineralogists,  from  its  re 
semblance  to  bleeding  flesh,  the  carneolus,  was  con 
sidered  to  be  singularly  efficacious  in  healing 
various  diseases ;  and  was  also  held  in  great  repute 
for  seals  and  ornaments,  on  account  of  its  suscepti 
bility  of  receiving  a  beautiful  polish,  and  its  excel 
lent  solidity,  which  rendered  it  a  good  subject  for 
the  burin  of  the  artist.  Many  of  the  finest  speci 
mens  of  antique  seals  and  medallions  are  made  of 
this  gem.  It  is  considered  by  an  author,  whom 
there  is  no  reason  to  dispute,  the  emblem  of 
HUMILITY  ;  and  his  opinion  is  founded  principally 
on  the  history  of  Reuben,  to  whom  it  appertained 
on  the  Breast-Plate,  and  partly  on  the  eminent  and 

188 


134:  TUMILITY. 

rare  qualities  tradition  ascribes  to  the  stone.  The 
cornelian  is  placed  in  pleasing  contrast  to  its  neigh 
bors  ;  on  the  one  side,  the  pale  and  elegant  sar 
donyx,  and  on  the  other,  the  brilliant  diamond, 
flashing  its  exuberant  glories  on  all  around. 
Humility  supported  by  Love  and  Truth.  Eed  is 
the  color  of  salvation,  and  to  the  affecting 
humility  and  sacrifice  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Saviour  of  the  world,  we  owe  our  redemp 
tion  from  eternal  ruin,  and  our  only  hope  of 
heaven. 

The  Confession  of  Faith  uttered  by  St.  Bartholo 
mew — otherwise  called  Nathaniel,  the  man  in 
whom  was  no  guile — when  the  Saviour  was  made 
known  to  him,  was  spontaneous  and  emphatic: 
"Kabbi,  thou  art  the  Son  of  God,  thou  art  the 
King  of  Israel  I" 

How  suggestive  of  our  humanity  is  the  cornelian 
in  its  resemblance  to  ensanguined  flesh !  and  what 
an  eloquent  type  of  our  often-recurring  trials,  and 
ofttimes  pierced  hearts!  Yery  consoling  in  the 
hour  of  the  spirit's  desolateness  is  the  conviction 
that  we  have  a  Divine  sympathizer,  one  who  is 
"  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmities ;"  for, 
verily,  a  voluntary  partaker  therein,  "He  hath 
borne  our  griefs,  and  carried  our  sorrows ;"  truly, 


HUMILITY.  135 

"  He  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions,  He  was 
bruised  for  our  iniquities."  The  mother-grace, 
humility,  is  the  fittest  ornament  for  those  who  pro 
fess  to  be  disciples  of  Him  who  was  "  meek  and 
lowly  of  heart."  Says  an  old  Quaker  poet : 

"  Humility  the  spring  of  virtue  is ; 
Humbling  thyself,  virtue  thou  canst  not  miss." 

Humility,  like  the  modest  violet,  seeks  the  shade, 
and  loves  to  nestle  within  a  sheltered  covert.     Yet, 
not  inactive  or  selfish  through  the  plenitude  of  its 
own  content,  it  joys  to  contribute  to  the  general 
welfare,  and  sends  forth,  on  each  passing  breeze,  its 
sweet  and  salutary  influences.     An  humble  sphere 
is  ever  the  most  conducive  to  the  attainment  of 
'heavenly    greatness.       Good    Mr.   Flavel  writes: 
"  How  dreadful  was  the  situation  of  Pius  Quintus, 
who  died  crying  out  despairingly,  £  When  I  was  in 
a  low  condition,  I  had  some  hopes  of  Salvation ; 
when  I  was  advanced  to  be  a  cardinal,  I  greatly 
doubted  ;  but  since  I  came  to  the  popedom,  I  have 
no  hope  at  all !'  "     He  that  humbleth  himself  shall 
be  exalted — and  to  what  exaltation  shall  arrive  the 
humble  soul,  when,  within  hail  of  the  mighty  bat 
tlements  of  Zion,  he  beholds  her  shining  walls  and 
sparkling  turrets,  and  receives  at  the  hand  of  her 


136  HUMILITY. 

Monarch,  the  snow-white  robe  and  starry  crown, 
and  hears  His  voice,  saying,  in  tones  of  incom 
parable  melody,  "  Come  ye  Blessed  of  my  Fa 
ther!" 

Ah,  Salem,  Salem,  Home  of  the  Blest !  when  we 
contemplate  thy  glories,  faintly  as  they  are  pictured 
to  us  by  the  inspired  Apostle,  our  hearts  cannot  re 
press  the  cry, 

"  Would  God  that  we  were  there!" 

A.  B.  G. 


H0MILITT.  137 


A  very  aged  man,  in  an  almshouse,  was  asked  what  he  was 
doing  ?— He  replied,  "  Only  Waiting." 

NLY  waiting  till  the  shadows 

Are  a  little  longer  grown, 
Only  waiting  till  the  glimmer 

Of  the  day's  last  beam  is  flown  ; 
Till  the  night  of  earth  is  faded 

From  the  heart,  once  full  of  day ; 
Till  the  stars  of  Heaven  are  breaking, 

Through  the  twilight  soft  and  grey. 

Only  waiting  till  the  reapers 

Have  the  last  sheaf  gathered  home, 
For  the  summer-time  is  faded, 

And  the  autumn  winds  have  come. 
Quickly,  reapers !  gather  quickly 

The  last  ripe  hours  of  my  heart, 
For  the  bloom  of  life  is  withered, 

And  I  hasten  to  depart. 


138  HUMILITY. 

Only  waiting  till  the  angels 

Open  wide  the  mystic  gate, 
At  whose  feet  I  long  have  lingered, 

Weary,  poor  and  desolate. 
Even  now  I  hear  their  footsteps, 

And  their  voices  far  away ; 
If  they  call  me,  I  am  waiting, 

Only  waiting  to  obey. 

Only  waiting  till  the  shadows 

Are  a  little  longer  grown, 
Only  waiting  till  the  glimmer 

Of  the  day's  last  beam  is  flown. 
Then  from  out  the  gathering  darkness, 

Holy,  deathless  stars  shall  rise, 
By  whose  light  my  soul  shall  gladly 

Tread  its  pathway  to  the  skies. 


HUMILITY. 


139 


0to  to 


.  P  AYSON,  in  a  letter  to  a  young  clergy 
man,  says  :  "  Some  time  since,  I  took  up  a 
little  work  purporting  to  be  the  lives  of  sun 
dry  characters  as  related  by  themselves. 
Two  of  these  characters  agreed  in  remark 
ing  that  they  were  never  happy  until  they  ceased 
striving  to  be  great  men.  This  remark  struck  me, 
as  you  know  the  most  simple  remarks  will  strike  us, 
when  Heaven  pleases.  It  occurred  to  me  at  once 
that  the  most  of  my  sufferings  and  sorrows  were 
occasioned  by  an  unwillingness  to  be  the  nothing 
which  I  am,  and  by  consequent  struggles  to  be 
something.  I  saw,  if  I  would  but  cease  struggling, 
and  consent  to  be  anything  or  nothing,  just  as  God 
pleases,  I  might  be  happy.  You  will  think  it. 
Btrange  that  I  mention  this  as  a  new  discovery. 
In  one  sense  it  was  not  new.  I  had  known  it  for 
years.  "  But  I  now  saw  it  in  a  new  light.  My  heart 
saw  it,  and  consented  to  it  ;  and  I  am  compara- 


140  HUMILITY. 

lively  happy.  My  dear  brother,  if  you  can  give 
up  all  desire  to  be  great,  and  feel  heartily 
willing  to  be  nothing,  you  will  be  happy 
too." 


HUMILITY.  141 


HE  glories  of  my  Father's  land, 

Wake  many  a  keen  desire — 
Its  realms  of  ether,  broad  and  deep, 

Its  orbs  of  sacred  fire ; 
Its  climate  ever  purely  bright, 

Its  halls  and  harps  of  gold, 
Its  people  free  from  guilt  and  death, 

Its  joys  which  grow  not  old. 

Ye  radiant  hosts,  that  strictly  keep 

Your  ceaseless  watch  on  high, 
"Walking  in  fair  and  holy  ranks, 

The  wide  and  azure  sky, 
Behold  one  form'd  to  climb  and  range 

Those  fields  of  stainless  blue ; 
Support  one  worn  by  strife  and  pain, 

Far  off  from  Heaven  and  you. 

Yet  know  that  He,  who  cares  for  all, 

And  rules  by  laws  divine, 
Who  bids  me  toil  in  grief  and  gloom, 

While  ye  rejoice  and  shine, 


142  HUMILITY. 

Has  said  that  meek  and  steadfast  faith, 

His  choicest  gifts  insures : — 
A  Christian's  place  and  state  with  Him 

Shall  more  than  equal  yours. 

Be  mine  the  green  and  dewy  turf — 

The  turf  which  wraps  the  dead, 
With  trees  and  flowers  to  wave  and  bloom 

Above  my  last  low  bed. 
I  fain  would  leave  this  weary  world : — 

Dwellers  in  yon  starr'd  dome, 
Bend  earthward  from  your  shining  seats, 

And  take  an  exile  home. 

EEV.  J.  G.  LYONS,  LL.D: 

(Suggested  by  an  Ode  of  Casimir  Sarbiewski.) 


HUMILITY. 


143- 


OME !  To  be  at  home  is  the  wish  of  the 
seaman  on  stormy  seas  and  lonely  watch. 
Home  is  the  wish  of  the  soldier,  and  tender 
visions  mingle  with  the  troubled  dreams  of 
trench  and  tented  field.  Where  the  palm- 
tree  waves  its  graceful  plumes,  and  birds  of  jew 
elled  lustre  flash  and  flicker  among  gorgeous 
flowers,  the  exile  sits  staring  upon  vacancy ;  a  far 
away  home  lies  upon  his  heart ;  and  borne  upon 
the  wings  of  fancy,  over  intervening  seas  and  lands, 
he  has  swept  away  to  home,  and  hears  the  lark 
singing  above  his  father's  fields,  and  sees  his  fair- 
haired  boy-brother,  with  light  foot  and  childhood's 
glee,  chasing  the  butterfly  by  his  native  stream- 
And  in  his  best  hours,  home,  his  own  sinless  home, 
a  home  with  his  Father  above  that  starry  sky,  will 
be  the  wish  of  every  Christian  man.  He  looks 
around  him;  the  world  is  full  of  suffering;  he  is 
distressed  by  its  sorrows,  and  vexed  with  its  sins. 
He  looks  within  him ;  he  finds  much  in  his  own 


144  HUMILITY. 

corruptions  to  grieve  for.  In  the  language  of  a 
heart  repelled,  grieved,  vexed,  he  often  turns  his 
eye  upward,  saying,  "I  would  not  live  here 
always ;  no,  not  for  all  the  gold  of  the  world's 
mines  ;  not  for  all  the  pearls  of  her  seas  ;  not  for  all 
the  pleasures  of  her  flashy,  frothy  cup ;  not  for  all 
the  crowns  of  her  kingdoms,  would  I  live  here 
always."  Like  a  bird  about  to  migrate  to  those 
sunny  lands  where  no  winter  sheds  her  snows,  or 
strips  the  grove,  or  binds  the  dancing  streams,  he 
will  often  in  spirit  be  pluming  his  wing  for  the  hour 
of  his  flight  to  glory. 

GUTHEIE. 


HUMILITY.  145 


f  fej  f  ilpm's  Jtatell  to  %  fttortir. 

"For  here  have  we  no  continuing  city,   but  we  seek   one   to 
come." 

i  ABE  WELL,  poor  world  !   I  must  be  gone ; 
v"        Thou  art  no  home,  no  rest  for  me  : 
I'll  take  my  staff  and  travel  on, 
Till  I  a  better  world  may  see. 

Why  art  thou  loath,  my  heart  ?     Oh  why 
Dost  thou  recoil  within  my  breast  ? 

Grieve  not,  but  say,  farewell,  and  fly 
Unto  the  ark,  my  dove  !  there's  rest. 

1  come,  my  Lord,  a  pilgrim's  pace  ; 

Weary  and  weak,  I  slowly  move ; 
Longing,  but  can't  yet  reach  the  place, — 

The  gladsome  place  of  rest  above. 

I  come,  my  Lord ;  the  floods  here  rise, 
These  troubled  seas  foam  naught  but  mire  ; 

My  dove  back  to  my  bosom  flies : 

Farewell,  poor  world ! — Heaven's  my  desire. 

7 


14:6  HUMILITY. 

"Stay,  stay,"  said  Earth  ;  "Whither,  fond  one? 

Here's  a  fair  world,  what  wouldst  thou  have  ?" 
Fair  world  !  oh  no,  thy  beauty's  gone, 

A  heavenly  Canaan,  Lord,  I  crave. 

Thus  th'ancient  travellers — thus  they, 
Weary  of  earth,  sighed  after  Thee  : 

They're  gone  before — I  may  not  stay, 
Till  I  both  Thee  and  them  may  see. 

Put  on,  my  soul,  put  on  with  speed ! 

Though  the  way  be  long,  the  end  is  sweet : 
Once  more,  poor  world,  farewell  indeed ! 

In  leaving  thee,  my  Lord  I  meet. 

[These  pious  and  beautiful  lines  are  from  a  very 
scarce  old  book,  "  The  Young  Man's  Calling,"  Lon 
don,  1683.  The  excellent  Bishop  Ken  was  living 
at  that  time,  and  they  are  so  much  in  his  spirit, 
that  it  is  not  improbable  they  are  by  him.] 


HUMILITY.  14-7 


a  fto  for  t\m  tojw  Irate  twi 


CONFESS  that  increasing  years  bring  with 
them  an  increasing  respect  for  men  who  do 
not  succeed  in  life,  as  those  words  are  com 
monly  used.  Heaven  is  said  to  be  a  place 
for  those  who  have  not  succeeded  upon 
earth  ;  and  it  is  surely  true  that  celestial  graces  do 
not  best  thrive  and  bloom  in  the  hot  blaze  of 
worldly  prosperity.  Ill  success  sometimes  arises 
from  a  superabundance  of  qualities  in  themselves 
good  —  from  a  conscience  too  sensitive,  a  taste  too 
fastidious,  a  self-forgetfulness  too  romantic,  a  mo 
desty  too  retiring.  I  will  not  go  so  far  as  to  say, 
with  a  living  poet,  that  "  the  world  knows  nothing 
of  its  greatest  men,"  but  there  are  forms  of  great 
ness,  or  at  least  of  excellence,  which  "  die  and  make 
no  sign  ;"  there  are  martyrs  that  miss  the  palm,  but 
not  the  stake  ;  there  are  heroes  without  the  laurel, 
and  conquerors  without  the  triumph. 

GEOEGE  S.  HILLAHD. 


14:8  HUMILITY. 


in  a  Jtaest  rf  prtlr 

the  wild,  still  woods  I  love  to  stray, 
When  the  autumn  leaves  are  passing  away — 
When  my  spirit  droops  in  desponding  mood, 
And,  sick  of  this  world,  would  commune  with 
its  God. 

On  the  tall  strong  Oak  I  love  to  look, 

And  watch  its  leaves  as  they  fall  in  the  brook ; 

As  shorn  of  their  glories  and  doomed  to  decay, 

Afar  on  its  bosom  they  eddy  away  ; 

On  the  crimson  glow  of  the  Maple  tree, 

And  the  golden  sheen  of  the  Hickory ; 

On  the  thorny  Holly's  emerald  hue, 

And  the  delicate  tints  of  the  mournful  Yew. 

As  I  gaze  on  these  with  my  artist  eye, 

I  would  I  might  win  the  deep  mystery, 

Of  Nature's  pallette  and  pencilling  fair 

When  she  tinted  each  leaflet  a  gem  thus  rare. 

And  I  love  to  list  the  moaning  breeze 

As  its  harmonies  float  through  the  dark  Pine  trees ; 


HUMILITY.  149 

Oh  !  it  soothes  my  soul  like  the  whispered  song, 
Or  the  distant  chant  of  a  seraph  throng. 
But  I  shuddering  start  at  the  rustling  sound 
Of  the  Poplar  leaf  as  it  whirls  to  the  ground  ; 
For  it  brings  to  my  mind  the  rattling  breath 
That  the  strong  man  draws  ere  he  sinks  in  death. 

And  oft  down  the  valley  I  lonely  rove, 

And  wander  away  to  the  Laurel  grove ; 

And  sit  me  adown  by  the  rivulet's  brim, 

"While  my  heart  echoes  nature's  sweet  vesper  hymn. 

And  here,  while  the  sere  leaves  around  me  fall, 
And  night  mantles  o'er  me  her  mystic  pall ; 
As  in  silence  I  muse  on  some  moss-grown  stone, 
And  ask  my  sad  heart  if  indeed  I'm  alone : — 
There  comes  on  the  night-wind  a  whispered  reply, 
And  it  bids  me  look  up  to  the  star-gemmed  sky ; 
And,  adoring,  I  feel  though  no  mortal  is  near, 
I  am  not  alone,  for  Jehovah  is  here  ! 

J.  W.  B.  GAKKETT. 

(Suggested  by  the  words  of  an  Arabian  traveller.) 


150  HUMILITY. 


)HE  late  King  of  Sweden  was  greatly  exer 
cised  upon  the  subject  of  faith  sometime 
previous  to  his  death.  A  peasant  being 
once  on  a  particular  occasion  admitted  to 
his  presence,  the  king,  knowing  him  to  be  a 
person  of  singular  piety,  asked  him  what  he  took  to 
be  the  true  nature  of  faith.  The  peasant  entered 
deeply  into  the  subject,  and  much  to  the  king's 
comfort  and  satisfaction.  The  king,  at  last,  on  his 
death-bed,  had  a  return  of  his  doubts  and  fears  as 
to  the  safety  of  his  soul,  and  still  the  same  ques 
tion  was  perpetually  in  his  mouth  to  those  about 
him,  "  What  is  real  faith  F  His  attendants  advised 
him  to  send  for  the  Archbishop  of  Upsal,  who, 
coming  to  his  bedside,  began,  in  a  learned  and 
logical  manner  to  enter  into  the  scholastic 
definition  of  faith.  The  prelate's  disquisition 
lasted  an  hour.  "When  he  had  done,  the  king 
said  with  much  energy:  "All  this  is  inge 
nious,  but  not  comfortable  ;  it  is  not  what  I  want 
Nothing  but  the  farmer's  faith  will  do  for  me." 


HUMILITY. 


151 


fire 


ERE   on    my   gaze   what    dazzling  visions 

burst ! 

A  new  creation  rising  ;  past  the  first ; 
New  heavens,  and  heaven-like  earth ;  where 

sea  no  more 
Severs,  intrusive,  shore  from  kindred  shore  ! 
And  there,  refulgent  as  a  peerless  bride, 
On  the  glad  spousal  morning  beautified. 
For  her  loved  lord  ;  from  opening  heaven  she  came, 
That  holy  city,  New  Jerusalem  ! 
And  hark,  what  voice  shouts  with  exulting  swell, — 
"  God  with  his  people,  God  himself  will  dwell ; 
Will  be  their  present  God,  and  they  his  Israel ! 
He  wipes  all  tears  forever  from  their  eyes ; 
Pain  is  no  more,  and  Death  for  ever  dies." 

There  walls  of  chrysolite  and  ruby  blaze  ; 
There  battlements  of  jasper  charm  the  gaze ; 
While    beryl,   sardonyx,    and   topaz,   blend   their 
rays! 


152 


HUMILITY. 


And  gates  of  massive  pearl,  like  silver,  gleam  ; 
And  streets  of  gold,  like  glass,  transparent  beam ; 
And  sapphire,  emerald,  and  amethyst  unite         ! 
Their  exquisite  diversities  of  light ! 
"No  temple  there  around,  no  sun  above ; 
All  sun,  all  temple  there,  where  all  is  God  and 
Love! 

REV.  THOMAS  G-KINFIELD.  A.  1VL 


Matthew.  Troth.. 

"  Follow  me.     And  he  arose  and  followed  him." 

)HE  CHKYSOLITE  is  the  precious  stone  of 
the  seventh  foundation  of  the  City  of  Saints, 
where  it  bears  the  name  of  Matthew.  In 
Exodus,  instead  of  chrysolite,  we  find  the 
word,  diamond  ;  which  variation  may  easily 
be  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  general  title 
of  chrysolite  was  applied  to  any  gem  in  which  was 
prevalent  a  golden  or  yellowish  hue  ;  and  this  is  the 
case  with  many  of  the  oriental  diamonds.  Indeed, 
some  mineralogists  affirm  that  the  unmixed  white 
gem  was,  in  all  probability,  very  rare  in  olden 
times.  As  the  white  were  the  most  prized  and 
costly,  we  must  assume  that  none  other  would  be 
selected  to  grace,  in  figure,  this  glorious  edifice. 
The  most  valuable  of  all  precious  stones  from  its 
hardness,  transparency,  and  dazzling  brilliancy,  the 
diamond,  sometimes  also  called  the  adamant,  seems 
to  be  most  worthy  to  symbolize  TRUTH,  in  its 


154:  TRUTH. 

several  phases  of  innocency,  courage,  fidelity, 
and  integrity.  As  the  diamond  is  powerful  in 
reducing,  polishing,  and  impressing  other  hard  sub 
stances,  so  is  truth  invincible  in  conquering  the 
most  obdurate  heart ;  and  as  it  shines  in  quenchless 
radiance  even  amid  the  obscurity  of  the  mine,  so, 
in  like  manner,  does  illustrious  truth,  with  its 
inspired  coruscations,  illuminate  the  darkest  re 
gions. 

In  imitation,  unquestionably,  of  the  Jewish  High 
Priest,  Diodorus  Siculus  relates,  that  the  chief 
judge  among  the  Egyptians  "  did  carry  about  his 
neck  an  image,  or  zodiac  of  precious  stones  hang 
ing  on  a  golden  chain,  which  was  called  Truth." 
And  another  old  writer  asserts  that  the  Egyptian 
chief  priest  wore  an  image  about  his  neck  of  the 
sapphire  stone,  which  was  called  Truth. 

Of  Saint  Matthew,  the  man  so  highly  honored 
in  having  dedicated  to  his  name  the  most  lustrous 
and  magnificent  of  the  stones  of  fire,  there  is  no 
phrase  recorded  by  either  of  the  Evangelists.  In 
his  own  gospel,  the  earliest  written,  and  also  the 
most  minute  and  comprehensive  of  the  four,  he, 
with  an  admirable  modesty,  sums  up  his  personal 
history  in  the  brief  sentence  cited  at  the  head  of 
this  chapter.  Luke  makes  of  him  the  additional 


TRUTH.  155 

record,  that,  at  the  gracious  invitation  of  the 
Redeemer,  "He  left  all,  rose  np,  and  followed 
Him."  An  honorable  testimony !  He  manifested 
his  love  of  truth  in  renouncing  all  for  His  sake, 
who  was  of  truth  the  embodiment.  Without  lin 
gering  to  confer  with  flesh  and  blood,  without  con 
sulting  worldly  issues,  without  seeking  counsel  of 
friends  and  kindred — no  sooner  did  the  future 
apostle,  evangelist,  and  martyr,  recognize  in  the 
august  lineaments  before  him,  the  Shiloh,  the  King 
of  Glory,  than,  filled  with  holy  faith,  he  hastened 
to  obey  the  Divine  call.  From  that  auspicious 
moment,  the  soul  of  Levi  clave  unto  his  master 
with  a  deathless  devotion.  If  wre  view  the  founda 
tions  of  the  city  as  rising  one  above  another,  the 
cornelian  and  diamond,  red  and  white,  are  the  cen 
tral  stones.  May  not  this  circumstance  denote  that 
the  salvation  of  Christ,  and  the  purity  and  inde 
structibility  of  His  Kingdom,  should  be  the  great 
central  objects  of  all  our  thoughts  and  aspirations — 
the  blent  focus  that  should  attract  and  rivet  our 
undeviating  gaze  ?  "White  is  the  established  emblem 
of  innocence,  and  the  redeemed  are  represented  as 
being  clad  in  white  vestures.  Unto  him  that  over- 
cometh,  Christ  promises  to  give  "  a  white  stone, 
and  in  the  stone  a  new  name  written."  Happy, 


156 


TRUTH. 


happy  they,  who  have  already  arrived  in  the  bliss 
ful  haven,  and  now  behold  the  King  in  His  beauty! 
who  have  already  awakened  in  His  likeness,  and 
are  satisfied !  Sweet  home,  we  languish  for  thee, 
and  to  receive  of  thy  robes  of  unsullied  whiteness, 
free  from  any  vestige  of  sin.  Shall  we,  aweary  and 
sorrow-stained,  ever  pass  through  those  pearly 
doors  and  courts  of  peerless  splendor,  and  sit  down, 
clad  in  the  Wedding-garment  of  Eighteousness,  to 
the  marriage-supper  of  the  Lamb  and  His  Ee- 
deemed  ? 


A.  B.  G. 


TRUTH.  157 


0f 


DAILY  wrestled  with  my  foe, 
But  wrestling  still  increased  my  woe  ; 
I  rarely  could  get  ground, 
Or  'scape  without  a  wound  : 
Hell  and  the  flattering  world  combined 
With  the  propensions  of  my  carnal  mind. 

To  God  I  daily  sent  my  cries, 

Of  heavenly  aid  to  gain  supplies  ; 
My  prayer,  my  sigh,  my  groan, 
Ne'er  reached,  I  fear,  the  throne  ; 

Yet  God's  veracity  relieved 

My  troubled  spirit  when  I  most  was  grieved. 

My  God,  my  God,  with  tears  I  spake, 
Ah,  will  Thy  pity  me  forsake  ! 

I  oft  Thy  promise  plead 

To  help  in  time  of  need  ; 
In  time  of  need  I  long  have  prayed  : 
Ah,  Lord  !  why  is  Thy  promise  long  delay'd  ? 


158  TEUTH. 

My  spirit  here  my  sorrow  check'd, 
Bade  me  Thy  own  good  time  expect ; 

Thou  best,  my  God,  dost  know 

Thy  gifts  when  to  bestow ; 
Like  Simon,  then,  I  acquiesced, 
Yet  lived  in  patient  languor  to  be  blest. 

Dear  Lord,  I,  on  a  sudden,  felt 
My  spirit  into  sweetness  melt ; 

What  joys  were  in  my  breast 

Can  never  be  express'd ; 
Thou,  Lord,  art  true,  most  true,  I  find, 
And  Thou,  in  gracious  rays,  hast  on  me  shin'd. 

Thy  promises  of  hearing  prayer, 
Of  pardon,  and  paternal  care, 

Of  efficacious  aids 

When  hell  our  soul  invades, 
Of  bliss  ecstatic,  unconlin'd 
Of  Thy  good  Spirit  dwelling  in  our  mind, — 

They  all  infallibly  are  true ; 

All  are  performed  in  seasons  due : 

My  God,  much  sooner  I 

My  thinking  would  deny, 
Than  of  Thy  gracious  promise  doubt — 
The  steady  anchor  of  a  soul  devout. 


TRUTH.  159 

Thy  promise,  Lord,  the  more  to  bind, 
Thou  hast  Thy  oath  eternal  join'd  ; 

From  both  to  saints  below 

Strong  consolations  flow : 
On  both  their  humble  hope  they  found, 
In  bliss  supernal  to  be  thron'd  and  crown'd. 

Whene'er  to  God  I  have  recourse, 
And  of  a  promise  feel  the  force, 

Faith,  which  experience  rears, 

So  fixes,  so  endears, 
That  martyrs  their  high  courage  build 
On  certain  sense  of  promises  fulfilled. 

Thy  Truth,  my  God,  Thy  saints  revere, 
And  learn  of  Thee  to  be  sincere  ; 

They  with  a  heart  entire, 

To  love  Divine  aspire  ; 
And  for  probation  of  their  zeal 
To  Thy  Omniscience  humbly  make  appeal. 

In  things  below  man  seeks  repose, 
Whose  sweetest  joys  are  bitter'st  woes; 

Experiments  he  tries, 

Finds  all  to  be  but  lies ; 
His  expectations  they  defeat ; 
The  world  appears  a  universal  cheat. 


160  TRUTH. 

Souls  who  in  God  alone  confide 
Have  truth  essential  for  their  guide ; 

Illuminations  clear 

To  heaven  their  spirits  steer  ; 
The  Godhead,  full  of  truth  and  grace, 
Deigns  in  our  flesh  to  guide  all  human  race. 

Oh,  may  I  study  Jesus'  law, 
From  fontal  truth  my  knowledge  draw  I 
The  Gospel,  when  I  stray, 
Shews  me  the  heavenward  way : 
The  star  had  a  less  radiant  light 
Which  led  the  Sages  to  their  Saviour's  sight. 

Of  all  the  truths  which  from  Thee  shine, 
Lord,  Thy  philanthropy  divine 

Next  to  my  heart  still  lies ; 

And  turns  my  ghostly  eyes 
From  all  ill-natured  schemes,  design'd 
To  bound  what  thou  hast  to  no  bounds  confin'd. 

Praise  to  the  God  of  Truth !  may  I 
His  word  read,  ponder,  and  apply ! 

I  may  myself  delude ; 

Satan  may  lies  intrude  ; 
Thee  only,  Lord,  I  can  believe, 
Who  nor  canst  be  deceiv'd,  nor  me  decer.  -, 

BISHOP  KEN. 


TRUTH. 


161 


Stotami  Skwa  tp  toili  C0mt 

)HE  very  moment  of  your  final  farewell,  if 
you  are  not  previously  cut  short  by  death, 
which  is  a  very  possible  thing,   that  mo 
ment  will  come,  and  old   age  will  come, 
and  the  last  sickness    will  come,  and  the 
dying-bed  will  come,  and  the  last  look  you  shall 
ever  cast  upon  your  relations  will  come,  and  the 
agony  of  the  parting  breath  will  come,  and  the  time 
when  you  will  be  stretched  a  lifeless  corpse  before 
the  eyes  of  your  weeping  relations  will  come,  and 
the  coffin  that  is  to  inclose  you  will  come,  and  that 
hour  when  the  company  assemble  to  carry  you  to  the 
churchyard  will  come,  and  that  moment  when  you 
are  put  into  the  grave  will  come,  and  the  throwing 
of  the  earth  upon  it— all,  all,  will  come  on  every 
living  creature,  who  now  hears  me.     And  in  a  few 
little  years,  the  minister  who  now  addresses  you, 
and  each  one  who  now  listens,  will  be  carried  to 
their  long  home ;  now,  all  this  will  come ;  you  may 
have  been  careless  or  heedless  about  these  things 


162 


TRUTH. 


formerly ;  but,  I  call  upon  you  now,  to  lay  them 
seriously  to  heart,  and  no  longer  trifle,  or  to  parley, 
when  the  scenes  of  life  are  thus  set  so  evidently 
before  you.     What  more  shall  I  say  ?— shall  I  carry 
you  beyond  the  region  of  sense  to  the  region  of 
faith,  and  assure  you,  in  the  name  of  Him  who  can 
not  lie,  that  when  the  hour  of  laying  the  body  in 
the  grave  comes,  the  hour  of  the  spirit's  returning 
to  God  comes  too  ?     Yes,  and  the  day  of  reckoning 
will  come ;  and  the  appearance  of  the  Son  of  God 
in  heaven,   and  His  holy  angels  around  him  will 
come ;  and  the  opening  of  the  Books  will  come ;  and 
the  appearance  of  every  one  of  you  before  the  judg 
ment-seat  will  come  :  and  the  solemn  passing  of  the 
sentence  which  is  to  fix  for  Eternity,  will  come  ;  and 
if  you  refuse  to  be  reconciled  to  God  in  the  name 
of  Christ,  now  that  He  is  beseeching  you  to  repent ; 
and,  if  you  refuse  to  turn  from  the  evil  of  your 
ways,  and  to  be   and  to   do,   what  your   Saviour 
requires  you  to  be  and  to  do,  I  must  tell  you  what 
the  sentence  is,  "Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into 
everlasting  fire,  prepared  for    the   devil   and    his 
angels !"      To-day,  then,  while  it  is  called  to-day, 
harden  not  your  hearts,  seeing  that  now  is  the  only 
accepted  time,  that  you  can  count  upon,  and  that 
now  is  the  day  of  salvation. 

DR.  CHALMERS. 


TRUTH.  163 


"  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf." 

,ADING,  fading,  all  are  fading- 
No  substantial  thing  is  here : 
Loved  ones  leave  us— we  are  passing, 
Passing  to  another  sphere. 


Beauty,  with  her  customed  smiling, 

And  her  love-inspiring  eye, 
Fadeth,  like  the  Day-god  dying, 

In  the  twilight  summer  sky. 

Like  to  pilgrims,  worn  and  weary, 

Toil  we  on  our  weary  way, 
Through  this  night  of  life,  while  gazing 

For  the  dawning  of  the  day. 


Like  a  stately  pageant  moving 
Slowly  o'er  the  trembling  earth 

Pass  the  ages,  dim  and  hoary, 
Bending  all  to  sceptered  Death. 


164 


TRUTH. 


And  the  tread  of  valiant  nations, 
Thundering  on  in  march  sublime, 

Leaves  a  faint,  and  fainter  echo 
In  the  crumbling  halls  of  Time. 

Yes,  these  bright  majestic  heavens, 
In  their  nightly  march  proclaim, 

We  are  passing,  we  are  passing, 
Unto  nothing,  whence  we  came. 

But  when,  like  a  baseless  vision, 

All  have  faded  thus  away, 
There  is  built  a  home  eternal 

For  the  weary  pilgrim's  stay. 

On  the  Hill  of  God  it  standeth ! 

Eearing  high  its  golden  dome, 
And  the  song  comes  swelling  from  it, 

"  Welcome  pilgrim,  welcome  home !" 


TRUTH.  165 


t0 

candid,  reasonable  men,  I  am  not  afraid 
to   |ay,  Qpen  wjiat   nave   keen  the   inmost 

tliouglits  of  my  heart.  I  have  thought, 
I  am  a  creature  of  a  day,  passing  through 
life  as  an  arrow  through  the  air.  I  am 
a  spirit,  come  from  God,  and  returning  to  God ; 
just  hovering  over  the  great  gulf,  till,  a  few 
moments  hence,  I  am  no  more  seen.  I  drop  into 
an  unchangeable  eternity !  I  want  to  know  one 
thing — the  way  to  heaven  ;  how  to  land  safe  on 
that  happy  shore.  God  himself  has  condescended 
to  teach  the  way;  for  this  very  end  He  came 
from  heaven.  He  hath  written  it  down  in  a 
book.  Oh,  give  me  that  book!  At  any  price, 
give  me  the  book  of  God !  I  have  it.  Here  is 
knowledge  enough  for  me.  Let  me  be  homo 
unus  libri.  Here,  then,  I  am,  far  from  the  busy 
ways  of  men.  I  sit  down  alone  ;  only  God  is  here. 
In  His  presence  I  open,  I  read  this  book,  for  this 
end — to  find  the  way  to  heaven.  Is  there  a 


166  TRUTH. 

doubt  concerning  the  meaning  of  what  I  read? 
Does  anything  appear  dark  or  intricate  ?  I  lift  up 
my  heart  to  the  Father  of  Lights  :  Lord,  is  it  not 
thy  word,  "  If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask 
of  God  ?"  Thou  "  givest  liberally,  and  upbraidest 
not."  Thou  hast  said  "  If  any  be  willing  to  do 
Thy  will,  he  shall  know."  I  am  willing  to  do ; 
let  me  know  thy  will.  I  then  search  after  and 
consider  parallel  passages  of  the  Scriptures,  "  com 
paring  spiritual  things  with  spiritual."  I  medi 
tate  thereon,  with  all  the  attention  and  earnest 
ness  of  which  my  mind  is  capable.  If  any  doubt 
still  remains,  I  consult  those  who  are  experienced 
in  the  things  of  God ;  and  then,  the  writings 
whereby,  being  dead,  they  yet  speak. 

WESLEY. 


TRUTH. 


167 


Rev.  Samuel  Rutherford,  Professor  of  Divinity  in  the  University 
of  St.  Andrews,  was  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  Pres 
byterian  cause  in  the  seventeenth  century.  The  Parliament  of 
Scotland  was  about  to  proceed  against  him  in  1661,  when  the  per 
secutions  of  Charles  the  Second  were  just  commencing  ;  but  Mr. 
Rutherford's  death  removed  him  from  their  jurisdiction.  This 
worthy  man  died  the  very  day  before  the  Parliament  passed  the 
famous  Recessory  Act. 

)KEAD  lightly  through  the  darkened  room, 

for  a  sick  man  lieth  there, 
And  'mid  the  dimness  only  stirs  the  whis 
pered  breath  of  prayer, 
As  anxious  hearts  take  watch  by  turns  be 
side  the  lowly  bed, 

"Where  sleep  the  awful   stillness  wears,  that  soon 
must  wrap  the  dead. 

Hours  had  he  known  of  fevered  pain  ;  but  now  his 

rest  is  calm, 
As  though  upon   the   spirit  worn,  distilled  some 

healing  balm ; 


168  TRUTH. 

It  may  be  that  his  dreaming  ear  wakes  old  accus 
tomed  words, 

Or  drinks  once  more  the  matin-songs  of  Anwoth's 
"  blessed  birds." 

Oh!  green   and   fresh  upon  his  soul  those  early 

haunts  arise ; 
His  kirk !  his  home !  his  wild-wood  walk  !  with  all 

their  memories — 
The  very  rushing  of  the  burn,  by  which  so  oft  he 

trod, 
The  while  on  eagle  wings  of  faith  his  spirit  met  its 

God! 

A  smile  hath  brightened  on  his  lip — a  light  around 

his  brow ; 
Oh !    surely,  "  words  unspeakable,"  that  dreamer 

listeth  now ; 
And  glories  of  the  upper  sky  his  raptured  senses 

steep, 
Blent  with  the  whispers  of  His  love,  who  gives 

His  loved  ones  sleep  ! 

But  hark!   a  sound!   a  tramp  of  horse!   a  loud, 

harsh,  wrangling  din ! 
Oh !  rudely  on  that  dream  of  heaven  this  world 

hath  broken  in ; 


TRUTH. 


169 


In  vain  affection's  earnest  plea — the  intruders 

forward  press, 
And  with  a  struggling  spasm  of  pain,  he  wakes 

to  consciousness ! 

Strange  lights  are  streaming  through  the  room 

— strange  forms  are  round  his  bed, 
Slowly  his  dazzled  sense  takes  in  each  shape  and 

sound  of  dread — 
"  False  to  thy  country's  honored  laws,  and  to  thy 

sovereign  lord, 
I  summon  thee  to  meet  thy  doom,  thou  traitor, 

Eutherford !" 

Feebly  the  sick  man  raised  his  hand — his  hand 

so  thin  and  pale, 
And  something  in  the  hollow  eye  made  that  rude 

speaker  quail : 
"  Man  !  thou  hast  sped  thine  errand  well ! — yet  it 

is  wasted  breath, 
Except  the  great  ones  of  the  earth  can  break  my 

tryst  with  death !" 

"  A  few  brief  days,  or  briefer  hours,  and  I  am  go 
ing  home, 

Unto  mine  own  prepared  place,  where  but  few 
great  ones  come  ! 
8 


170  TRUTH. 

And  to  the  Judgment-seat  of  Him  who  sealed 

me  with  His  seal ; 
'Gainst  evil  tongues  and  evil  men  I  make  my 

last  appeal ! 

"  A  traitor   was   His   name   on   earth !    a  felon's 

doom  His  fate  ! 
Thrice  welcome  were  my  Master's  cup,  but  it 

hath  come  too  late  ! 
The  summons  of  that  Mightiest  King,  to  whom 

all  kings  must  bow, 
Is  on  me  for  an  earlier  day — is  on  me  even  now ! 

"  I  hear !  I  hear !  the  chariot  wheels   that   bring 

my  Saviour  nigh : 
For  me  He  bears  a  golden  crown— a  harp  of 

melody ; 
For  me  He  opens  wide  His  arms — He  shows  His 

wounded  side, 

Lord !  'tis  my  passport  into  life  ! — I  live  for 
Thou  hast  died !" 

They  give  his  writings  to  the  flames  ;  they  brand 
his  grave  with  shame, 

A  hissing  in  the  mouth  of  fools,  became  his  hon 
ored  name — 


TKIJTH.  171 

And  darkness  wraps  awhile  the  land  for  which 

he  prayed  and  strove ; 
But  blessed  in  the  Lord  his  death — and  blessed 

his  rest  above  I 


p. 


Thomas.  Knowledge. 

"  My  Lord  and  my  God." 

)HE  BEKYL  is  the  precious  stone  of  the 
eighth  foundation  of  the  Glorified  Home, 
where  it  is  the  ensign  of  Thomas.  This 
admired  gem  is,  in  color,  a  delicate  sea- 
green,  tinctured  slightly  with  blue,  and  is 
of  an  exquisite  vivid  transparency.  Sometimes  it 
is  interspersed  with  golden  streaks,  when  it  receives 
the  prefix  of  chryso-beryl.  Isadore  of  Seville,  a 
savant  of  repute,  has  thought  the  term  beryl  to  be 
but  a  modification  of  pearl ;  but,  as  the  beryl  is  a 
well-authenticated  gem,  distinct,  entirely,  from  the 
opaque,  soft  pearl,  there  is  no  reason  whatever  to 
dissent  from  the  generally  received  idea.  Kelly 
says  that  the  word  beryl  is,  in  the  original  tongue, 
Tarshish,  a  term  which  in  Scripture  is  frequently 
put  figuratively  for  the  sea ;  and,  that  thus  consider 
ing  its  color  and  name  in  relation  to  the  sea,  it  may 
appositely  refer  to  Zebulon,  of  whom  his  father 

1T2 


KNOWLEDGE.  173 

Jacob  said  in  blessing  him,  "  Zebulon  shall  dwell  at 
the  haven  of  the  sea  ;  and  he  shall  be  an  haven  of 
ships."  This  reference  to  the  sea  may  be  the  cause 
of  the  misconception.  Here,  anew,  our  admiration 
is  awakened  by  the  position  of  this  stone — the 
attention  to  elegance  of  effect  which  fixed  its 
station  between  the  white  crystal  and  the  rich 
golden  topaz,  should  elicit  emotions  of  gratitude  to 
Himward,  the  Architect  Supreme !  the  Author  of 
every  glorious  object,  who  deigns  still  to  minister 
to  the  passion  for  beauty,  which,  in  their  state  of 
pristine  innocence,  He  implanted  in  the  bosoms  of 
our  first  parents !  With  reference  to  the  significa 
tion  of  this  precious  stone,  after  much  debating 
what  meaning  it  were  better  to  attach  to  it,  I 
finally  incline  to  KNOWLEDGE,  chiefly  because  that, 
in  the  Book  of  Judges  it  is  stated  that  "  Out  of 
Zebulon  (came)  they  that  handle  the  pen  of  the 
writer."  The  experience  of  Thomas,  too,  will  ren 
der  the  interpretation  more  suitable. 

"My  Lord  and  my  God!"  exclaimed  Saint 
Thomas,  in  an  ecstasy  of  adoration,  when  Jesus 
revealed  Himself,  and  invited  him  to  dispel  his  dis 
honoring  doubts  by  making  a  manual  examination 
of  His  sacred  person.  The  benediction  pronounced 
on  that  memorable  occasion,  by  Christ  Jesus,  has 


174: 


KNOWLEDGE. 


descended,  and  shall  continue  to  descend  on  every 
believing  soul,  from  His  Ascension,  thenceforward, 
until  the  mighty  angel  shall  proclaim  Time  to  be  no 
longer.  Of  Thomas,  there  is  but  little  recorded  in 
sacred  history,  but  that  little  shows  him  to  have  been 
a  person  of  somewhat  singular  temperament — at  once 
incredulous  and  impulsive.  Tradition  declares  that, 
during  his  sojourn  in  Persia,  he  met  the  very  same 
Magi,  who,  at  the  Advent  of  our  Saviour,  had  made 
the  long  journey  to  worship  at  His  shrine ;  and  that 
having  baptized  them,  they  accompanied  him  as 
fellow-laborers  in  his  consecrated  mission  of  spread 
ing  the  Gospel. 

Of  Divine  Knowledge,  Job  says :  "  It  cannot  be 
valued  with  the  gold  of  Ophir,  with  the  precious 
onyx,  or  the  sapphire.  The  gold  and  the  crystal 
cannot  equal  it ;  and  the  exchange  of  it  shall  not 
be  for  jewels  of  fine  gold.  No  mention  shall  be 
made  of  coral  or  of  pearls :  for  the  price  of  wisdom 
is  above  rubies.  The  topaz  of  Ethiopia  shall  not 
equal  it,  neither  shall  it  be  valued  with  pure  gold." 
Yain  earthly  wisdom,  the  mere  knowledge  of  things 
that  perish  in  the  using,  is  but  the  counterfeit  gem, 
whose  transient  and  fitful  gleam  can  never  suffice 
to  lighten  the  pilgrim  of  life  one  step  through  the 
dark  valley ;  whereas,  the  knowledge  which  is  from 


KNOWLEDGE. 


above  shall  blaze  with  undimmed  oriency  when  the 
luminaries  of  the  firmament  are  extinguished  in. 
eternal  night.  To  know  Christ,  and  the  power  of 
His  resurrection,  is  the  sole  wisdom  that  will  pass 
the  review  of  that  Great  Day  of  Beckoning,  when 
«  Many  of  them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth 
shall  awake,  some  to  everlasting  life,  and  some  to 
shame  and  everlasting  contempt." 

A.  B.  a, 


1T6 


KNOWLEDGE. 


"The   outward    darkness  and  the  inward  light." 

MIST  of  night  and  blindness !  that  must  hang 

Before  the  life  to  come ! 
O  Tomb !  that  closes  once  with  iron  clang, 

And  is  forever  dumb  ! 


Ships,  which  go  forth  upon  the  boundless  main, 

And  perish  far  at  sea, 
Are  tossed  in  fragments  to  the  land  again — 

But  naught  returns  from  thee. 

~No  whisper  comes  from  all  the  generations, 

Through  thy  dark  portals  thrust ; 
]STo  breath  of  life  among  the  buried  nations, 

One  moment  stirs  their  dust ! 

No  souls  beneath,  e'er  struggling  into  sight, 

Heave  up  the  silent  ground ; 
Though  the  green  sod  above  them  is  so  light — 

So  frail  the  crumbling  mound. 


KNOWLEDGE.  177 

I  listen  by  the  sea  to  catch  some  tone 

From  spirits  that  are  fled ; 
There  is  no  voice  in  its  eternal  moan, 

"No  voice  of  all  its  dead. 

The  stars  look  coldly  down  when  man  is  dying, 

The  moon  still  holds  its  way ; 

Flowers  breathe  their  perfume  round  us;    winds 
keep  sighing ; 

Naught  seems  to  pause  or  stay. 

Yes  !  blindly  on — o'er  all  that  thinks  and  feels, 

The  universe  must  roll ; 
Though  at  each  turn  its  adamantine  wheels 

Crush  out  a  human  soul ! 

Toward  yon  bright  vault  of  heaven  I  dare  not 
raise 

The  cry  of  my  despair, 
Lest  I  should  hear  the  echo  which  betrays 

That  all  is  empty  there. 

Yet  has  my  soul  within  the  gift  of  seeing 

Beyond  this  earth  and  sky ; 
I  FEEL  the  immortal  instinct  of  my  being — 

I  KNOW  it  cannot  die ! 

8* 


ITS  KNOWLEDGE. 


EAVENS  !  wliat  a  moment  must  that  be 
when  the  last  flutter  expires  on  our  lips  ! 
What  a  change !  Tell  me,  ye  who  are 
deepest  read  in  nature  and  in  God,  to  what 
new  worlds  are  we  born  ?  Whither  has 
that  spark — that  unseen,  incomprehensible  intelli 
gence,  fled  ?  Look  upon  that  cold,  livid,  ghastly 
corpse  that  lies  before  you !  That  was  a  shell,  a 
gross,  earthly  covering,  which  held  the  immortal 
essence  which  has  now  left ;  left  to  range,  perhaps, 
through  illimitable  space ;  to  receive  new  capa 
cities  to  delight,  new  powers  of  conception,  new 
glories  of  beatitude !  Ten  thousand  fancies  rush 
upon  the  mind  as  it  contemplates  the  awful  mo 
ment  between  life  and  death  !  It  is  a  moment  big 
with  imagination,  hopes  and  fears ;  it  is  the  con 
summation  that  clears  up  all  mystery — solves  all 
doubts — which  removes  all  contradictions,  and 
destroys  errors.  Great  God !  what  a  flood  of 
rapture  may  at  once  burst  upon  the  departed  soul. 


KNOWLEDGE.  179 

The  unclouded  brightness  of  the  celestial  region — - 
the  solemn  secrets  of  nature  may  be  divulged  ;  the 
immediate  unity  of  the  past,  forms  of  imperishable 
beauty  may  then  suddenly  disclose  themselves, 
bursting  upon  the  delighted  senses,  and  bathing 
them  in  immeasurable  bliss. 


§mm,  % 

HE  inscription  on  the  tomb  of  Bacon,  the 
sculptor,   penned  by  himself : — "  What  I 
was  as  an  artist   seemed  to  me  of  some 
importance   while    I   lived  ;    but   what   I 
^o        really  was  as  a  believer  in  Jesus  Christ, 
is  the  only  thing  of  importance  to  me  now  1" 


180 


KNOWLEDGE. 


"Sfem  sfcall  te  w  pg(rt 

^  O  night  of  sorrow — sorrow  that  doth  lie 

Like  a  dark  fringe  round  every  bloom- 

^g  joy, 

HaPP7  if  with  the  fleeting  bliss  to  fly, 
Nor  lingering  as  each  trace  it  would 

destroy 

Of  what  hath  been — deepening  into  a  pall, 
To  throw  its  cold,  dark  shadow  over  all, 
And  wrap  around  warm  life  a  chill  and  gloom, 
More  fearful  than  the  shadow  of  the  tomb. 

]STo  night  of  darkness,  sorrow's  sister  sad, 

Upon  whose  melancholy,  quiet  breast, 
Leaving  the  day  unto  the  gay  and  glad, 

The  o'erwearied  heart  doth  weep  itself  to  rest. 
Light  for  the  happy !    Joy  and  light  must  blend 

To  bless  existence,  but  the  noise  and  glare 
Mocks  the  pain'd,  shrinking  spirit ;  doth  but  send 

Through  its  lone  depths  the  anguish  of  despair. 


KNOWLEDGE.  181 

No  night  of  sin — there  shall  no  sorrowing  heart 

Its  own  unholiness  and  weakness  mourn, 
No  sins  of  others  anguish  shall  impart, 

None  grieve  for  wanderers  who  will  not  return ; 
No  hard  unkindness  shall  be  dealt  from  those 

"We  fain  would  love  and  honor  of  your  kind — 
The  false  and  heartless  make  life's  bitterest  woes, 

Unto  the  sensitive  and  lofty  mind. 

No  night  of  death — beside  the  couch  of  pain, 

Ne'er  shall  the  watcher  wasting  vigil  keep, 
O'er  the  loved  dying  one,  and  strive  in  vain 

To  woo  for  the  worn  suff 'rer  balmy  sleep, 
Hushing  with  strong  resolve  the  torn  heart's  strife, 

Wilder  than  that  of  life's  last  agony. 
Death,  thou  art  terrible  ! — more  fearful  life^ 

To  see  the  loving  and  beloved  die ! 

"  There  shall  be  no  night  there  !" — calm  happiness, 

Seeming  a  part  of  the  soft  lambent  light 
On  which  no  shade  shall  ever  lie,  shall  bless 

And  penetrate  the  soul  with  pure  delight ; 
For  "  God  shall  dwell  with  them  " — God  and  the 
Lamb 

Lead  them  where  living  streams  well  out  always, 
While  holy  love  each  spirit  shall  inflame, 

And  tune  to  songs  of  everlasting  praise  ! 


182  KNOWLEDGE. 

Then    cheer    thee,   heart!    my  fainting    soul,    be 

strong ! 
O?er  life's  cold  pathway  streams  the  heavenly 

bliss, 
Enough  to  make  the  gladden'd  spirit  long 

For  a  full  plenitude  of  life  like  this. 
Be  it  thy  only  work — the  Crucified 

To  bind  unto  thy  heart — know  more  of  God, 
Until  with  Jesus  thou  art  glorified, 
And    Heaven    becomes  thine   endless,    blessed 
abode ! 

H.  E.  SEAES. 


KNOWLEDGE. 


183 


iisioits  0f  i 


is  short,  and  eternity  is  long  ;  yet,  in 
this  short  time  I  must  prepare  for  a  long 
eternity.  Oh,  what  a  duration  is  before 
me  !  but  what  an  infatuation  is  within  me, 
that  I  should  mind  the  trifling  things  of 
time,  and  forget  the  interests  of  eternity  !  Truly, 
when  I  compare  eternity  and  time,  I  am  astonished 
that  eternity  does  not  swallow  up  time  in  my  con 
cerns  and  meditations.  With  what  night  visions, 
deceptive  fantasies,  and  delusive  dreams,  are  we 
entertained  here,  in  comparison  with  that  divine 
understanding,  intuitive  knowledge,  noonday  dis 
coveries,  vigor  and  activity  of  soul,  we  shall  be 
possessed  of,  when  we  awake  to  immortality,  from 
all  the  slumbers  of  a  transitory  life  !  But  let  me 
rise  in  my  contemplation,  and  see  the  goodly  hosts 
of  the  ransomed  nations,  dwelling  in  the  noonday 
displays  of  His  glory,  possessed  of  pleasures  free  as 
the  fountain  whence  they  flow,  and  full  as  their 
unlimited  desire.  Their  souls  are  replenished  with 


184:  KNOWLEDGE. 

the  most  refined  satisfaction,  sacred  delight,  and 
substantial  joy.  What  an  august  assembly  are  the 
inhabitants  of  the  better  country !  wearing  crowns, 
holding  sceptres,  reigning  on  thrones,  walking  in 
white,  exalted  in  their  natures,  their  conceptions 
bright,  their  yisions  cloudless,  their  thoughts  ele- 
yated,  their  songs  transporting,  their  happiness  con 
firmed,  their  loye  burning,  and  all  their  powers 
entranced  foreyer ! 


KNOWLEDGE.  185 


Ctttam  d 

year  in  heaven  !  since,  from  its  prisoning 

etO      cl^ 

Thy  soul  exultant  winged  its  upward  way ; 
Sprang    to    embrace    the  waiting    seraph 

throng, 

And  entered  heaven's  high  courts  with  a  triumphal 
song. 

One  year  on  earth !  since  we,  the  funeral  knell  * 
Tolling  sad  welcome,  laid  thy  form  to  dwell 
Mid  summer's  wreathing-blossoms,  dust  to  dust, 
To  slumber  till  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 

One  year  in  heaven !     Oh,  spirit,  early  crowned 
With  bays  immortal !  thou  thy  rest  hast  found, 
Where  flowers  perennial  bloom,  and  waters  flow, 
Whoso  that  quaffeth  of  them,  thirst  no  more  shall 
know. 

*  The  funeral  bells  at  the  entrance  of  Greenwood  Cemetery. 


186  KNOWLEDGE. 

One  year  on  earth  !  in  loneliness  and  tears 
"With  us  the  days  have  crept,  blent  with  dark  fears, 
And  doubts,  and  brooding  gloom,  lest  the  pure  bliss 
Supernal,  thou  dost  bask  in,  haply  we  should  miss. 

One  year  in  heaven !  the  conqueror's  waving  plume 
Is  in  thine  hand,  and  youth's  rich  purpling  bloom 
Tints  thy  fair  cheek,  while  o'er  each  vernal  height, 
And  perfumed  vale  thou  rov'st,  in  uniform  of  light. 

One  year  on  earth !    Oh  spirit,  best  beloved  ! 

Our  home's  dear  star,  though  far  from  us  removed, 

Dost  thou  yet  think  on  us  ?  or  in  that  clime 

Of  happiness  supreme,  keep  they  no  note  of  time  ? 

One  year  in  heaven !  what  priceless  gems  of  thought 
And  mystic  lore,  thy  eager  soul  hath  sought, 
And  seeking,  found — and  finding,  decked  the  crown, 
Adoring  cast  in  blaze  refulgent  at  His  Throne. 

One  year  on  earth !  thy  presence  is  allwhere : 
Thy  pictures,  books,  each  object  once  thy  care, 
"We  dream-like  view,  till,  with  a  shuddering  start, 
Thy  dying  words  and  smile  come  rushing  o'er  the 
heart. 

One  year  in  heaven !  we  wrong  thee  by  our  grief, 
More  meet  were  praise ;  thy  mortal  toil  was  brief, 


KNOWLEDGE.  1ST 


Thy  warfare  light,  the  victory  bestowed, 
Was  through  thy  Sovereign's  loving  grace,  thy 
Saviour-God. 

One  year  on  earth !  why  should  we  envy  thee, 
O  blessed  youth  !  thy  early  rest,  when  we 
Nurse  the  fond  hope,  that,  time's  wild  struggle  o'er, 
"We  shall  with  rapture  greet  thee  on  the  Sabbath 
shore. 

One  year  in  heaven  !  thine  artist's  soul  is  now 
Filled  with  deep  beauty  vainly  sought  below ; 
And  many  a  gorgeous  dream,  a  vision  grand, 
Glow^s  into  semblance  bright,  by  ambient  zephyrs 
fanned. 

One  year  on  earth !     Oh,  early  loved  and  lost ! 
Still  pity  us,  on  life's  fierce  ocean  tossed : 
Be  thou  the  sweet-souled  guardian  angel  given 
To  guide  us  to  the  skies,  when  earth's  last  link  is 

riven ! 

AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GARRETT. 

(From  "  Hamilton,  the  Young  Artist.") 


188 


KNOWLEDGE. 


ife    t0 


>HE  true  object  of  this  present  life  is  a  pre 
paration  for  a  higher  sphere  —  it  is  a  period 
of  probation.  "We  are  now  acquiring  our 
education  for  eternity  —  that  mighty  goal 
whither  we  are  all  alike  hastening,  irresis 
tibly  impelled  by  ever-rushing  time.  This  convic 
tion  makes  the  tenancy  of  life,  precarious  tenure 
though  it  be,  one  of  priceless  value.  Therefore,  if 
the  lessons  enforced  be  sometimes  bitter  ones  —  as, 
alas,  they  are  —  is  it  not  consoling  to  reflect  that 
every  chastening  we  feel,  every  woe,  every  pang  in 
the  experience  of  the  spirit,  is  intended  for  the  ulti 
mate  purpose  —  salvation  ! 

"  A  happy  immortality,"  says  Plato,  "  is  a  great 
prize  set  before  us,  and  a  great  object  of  hope, 
which  should  engage  us  to  labor  all  the  time  of  our 
life  to  acquire  wisdom  and  virtue." 

Truly,  had  we  no  permanent  hopes  fixed,  no 
treasures  laid  up  beyond  this  perishing  world,  mis 
erable  would  be  our  lot,  far  inferior  to  that  of  the 


KNOWLEDGE.  189 

meanest  animal.  How  affecting  was  the  dying 
remark  of  a  distinguished  heathen  philosopher, 
who  had  no  light  save  that  of  nature :  "  I  have 
lived  in  anxiety,  and  I  depart  in  perturbation  !" 

Than  this  I  can  imagine  nothing  more  mournful, 
and  gladly  turn  from  him  to  hear  the  testimony  of 
another  philosopher,  the  light  over  whose  grave- 
ward  path  shone  from  a  noble  source — the  Star  in 
the  East :  "  For  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and 
the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand,  I  have  fought 
a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept 
the  faith:  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a 
crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the 
righteous  Judge  shall  give  me  at  that  day." 

The  course  of  life  is  an  enigma ;  not  that  it  is 
checkered  with  seemingly  aimless  trials  and  vicissi 
tudes,  but  because  persons  endowed  with  intellect, 
learning,  and  opportunity  to  discern  truth  from 
error,  light  from  darkness,  should  suffer  themselves 
to  be  entangled  in  the  perplexing  mazes  of  falla 
cious  reasonings  and  groundless  doubts,  when  the 
great  Chart  of  Revelation,  the  only  solver  of  the 
grand  problem,  lies  open  unexplored.  The  sages  of 
ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  derived  whatever  glim 
merings  of  truth  they  possessed,  from  stray  passages 
of  the  ancient  Scriptures. 

Firmlv  must  every  thoughtful  soul  believe  in  the 


190  KNOWLEDGE. 

perpetual  action,  and  changing  phases  of  the  spirit 
as  it  passes  onwards  through  the  ever-widening 
and  brightening  cycles  of  eternity.  To  an  intellec 
tual  being — one  who  feels  the  futility  and  utter 
poverty  of  all  earthly  joys— it  is  a  belief  fraught 
with  intense  pleasure.  Could  we  keep  such 
thoughts  constantly  before  our  minds,  the  meteors 
of  bliss  and  black  clouds  of  trouble,  would  both  be 
more  beneficially  tempered  in  their  effects.  And 
whether  we  be  toilftilly  climbing  the  steep  acclivity 
of  the  Hill  of  Science — whether  we  be  struggling 
through  the  crowded  thoroughfare  of  life — whether 
we  be  wrestling  with  the  most  gigantic  difficulties 
— or  whether  we  lie  crushed  and  wounded  beneath 
an  avalanche  of  misfortunes;  still,  still  shall  our 
hearts  kindle  with  fresh  ardor,  while  we  feel  that 
every  trial  is  but  another  step  gained  toward  the 
Temple  of  the  New  Jerusalem. 

The  exquisite  figure  of  the  transfiguration  of  the 
unsightly  grub  into  a  soaring,  gorgeous  butterfly,  is 
a  foreshadowing  and  type  of  our  exalted  destiny, 
yet  only  a  contracted  and  partial  one.  The  insect 
springs  to  its  highest  excellence  at  once — we  hope 
to  press  on  from  glory  to  glory  forevermore.  It 
drops  its  shell  never  more  to  resume  it ;  our  bodies, 
awakened  by  the  peal  of  the  final  trump  from  the 
slumber  of  ages,  shall  be  re-united  each  to  its  for- 


KNOWLEDGE.  191 

mer  inhabitant.  Oh  !  in  that  mysterious  moment, 
when  the  immortal  Psyche,  shaking  off  the  cumbrous 
load  of  mortality,  shall  don  her  celestial  vestures,  and, 
poising  on  her  newly-fledged  pinions,  cast  one  parting 
glance  of  her  lustrous  eyes  on  her  loved  companion, 
whom  she  is  leaving  for  awhile,  ere  she  plume  her  ex 
ultant  flight  for  the  Paradise  of  God,  how  insignificant 
— how  inconceivably  insignificant — \vill  appear  the 
honors  and  tinselled  gauds  of  this  poor  existence  ;  how 
insipid  its  fairest  allurements — how  insane  its  most 
earnest  pursuits — how  trivial  its  most  important  con- 
cerns — how  petty  its  proudest  triumphs — what  dross 
its  richest  treasures !  How  blessed  will  she  esteem 
every  instrument,  however  painful  and  humiliating, 
that  has  been  the  medium  of  accelerating  or  fur 
thering  her  progress  to  the  Life  to  Come.  How 
often,  in  the  heavenly  home,  may  the  remembrances 
of  each  bitter  experience  below,  call  forth  peans  of 
rapturous  gratitude,  and  enhance  the  joy  of  ever 
lasting  security  and  exemption  from  future  ill ! 

"Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  itself,  and  startles  at  destruction  ? 
'Tis  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us ; 
'Tis  heaven  itself  that  points  out  a  hereafter, 
And  intimates  eternity  to  man." 

AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GAKRETT. 


James    tlie    Less.  Clemency. 

"  For  the  Lord  is  very  pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy." 

)HE  TOPAZ  is  the  precious  stone  of  the 
ninth  foundation  of  the  Realms  of  Light, 
where  it  is  the  ensign  of  James  the  Less. 
The  topaz  is  a  favorite  gem  of  a  bright 
yellow  color  tinged  with  green,  and  dia 
phanous  ;  it  was,  in  olden  times,  believed  to 
possess  the  medical  properties  of  curing  lunacy 
and  frenzy.  For  these  imputed  virtues,  as  well 
as  for  its  beautiful  hue  and  brilliancy,  this  stone 
was  much  prized  by  the  ancient  Arabians.  Eze- 
kiel  also  mentions  it,  as  forming  a  part  of  the 
gorgeous  adorning  of  the  proud  monarch  of  Tyre. 
A  fanciful  derivation  of  the  name  is  given  by  one 
Juba,  who  writes  of  an  enchanting  island  in  the 
Red  Sea,  which,  being  very  difficult  to  find  by 
mariners  by  reason  of  the  thick  fogs  and  mists 
that  surrounded  it,  was  called  by  them  Topazion, 

192 


CLEMENCY.  193 

which  signifies,  in  the  language  of  the  wild  Arabs, 
to  seek  and  search  out,  and  hence,  he  adds,  the 
name  of  this  gem  which  is  exceedingly  sought  after 
for  its  rare  beauty  and  worth.  It  is  said  to  be  the 
emblem  of  CLEMENCY,  or  Mercy,  and  those  desirous 
to  establish  an  analogy  thereto  will  do  well  to 
consult  the  history  of  Simeon,  whose  name  it 
memorialized  on  the  Breast-Plate,  in  order  to  ascer 
tain  whether  the  exploits  of  his  tribe  corresponded 
with  this  beautiful  attribute.  We  know  that 
Simeon  himself  was  woefully  deficient  in  this  vir 
tue,  and  it  is  difficult  to  conjecture  why  the  gem 
was  given  to  him,  except,  perhaps,  to  serve  as  a 
perpetual  reminder  of  his  sin,  and  as  a  warning  to 
his  descendants.  Such  beacon-lights  are  often  mer 
cifully  given  us  by  our  Heavenly  Father.  Mercy, 
in  the  sight  of  us,  sinners,  is  the  most  precious  and 
inestimable  jewel  in  the  Breast-Plate  of  our  great 
High  Priest.  But  for  it  we  had  been  doomed  to 
regions  of  endless  despair ;  but  for  it  no  ray  of 
hope  had  ever  visited  us,  to  enlighten  our  gloom, 
or  gladden  our  drooping  spirits  with  the  prospect  of 
future  blessedness ! 

Of  Saint  James  the  Less,  we  gather  little  more 
information  through  the  Evangelists  than  that  he 
and  Jude  were  brethren  of  our  Lord,  but  the 


194:  CLEMENCY. 

records  of  the  early  Fathers  extol  him  as  an  inde 
fatigable  apostle  until  his  martyrdom,  which  took 
place  by  stoning.  The  text  from  the  Epistle 
General  of  James  is  selected  as  in  appropriate 
keeping  with  the  lovely  emblem  attached  to  the 
stone  inscribed  with  his  name.  "  For  the  Lord  is 
very  pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy."  There  is  a 
pathos  and  sweetness  about  this  passage  which  can 
not  fail  to  touch  a  reflecting  mind.  It  falls  on  the 
perturbed  soul  like  a  melodious  song  in  the  night — 
like  a  beam  of  warm  sunshine  through  the  cap 
tive's  noisome  dungeon — like  healing  balm  into  an 
aching  wound.  "  Yery  pitiful !"  Is  not  there  an 
inexpressible  plaintiveness  in  these  two  words! 
He  compassionates  our  griefs,  our  errors,  our 
temptations,  while  wandering  through  this  Yale  of 
Shadows ;  and  remembering  that  we  are  but  dust, 
ever  lets  His  Mercy  triumph  over  His  Judgment. 
As  the  topaz  bathes  all  around  it  in  its  own  sump 
tuous  rays,  so  the  All-glorious  Sun  of  Eighteous- 
ness  irradiates  with  His  Light,  the  whole  earth. 
Said  He,  whose  mercy  brought  Him  from  His 
Throne  to  lay  down  His  life  for  His  enemies,  "  Be 
ye  therefore  merciful,  as  your  Father  also  is  merci 
ful." 

If  we  obeyed  this  mandate,  how  different  ofttimes 


CLEMENCY.  195 

would  be  our  course  through  life  ;  how  leniently 
would  we  preside  in  judgment  over  the  actions  of 
our  neighbors ! 

O  Thou  Exemplar  of  Mercy !  be  ever  ours  the 
prayer  of  Blind  Bartimeus,  and  open  Thou  our 
eyes,  that  we  may  see  in  their  true  light,  our  sins, 
our  blemishes,  and  our  short-comings.  O  Thou 
Most  Pitiful !  "  suffer  us  not  at  our  last  hour,  for 
any  pains  of  death,  to  fall  from  Thee."  "  O  holy 
and  most  merciful^  Saviour,  deliver  us  not  into  the 
bitter  pains  of  eternal  death  !"  Ever,  evermore — 

"While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyelids  close  in  death, 
When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown, 
And  behold  Thee  on  Thy  Throne."— 

ever,  intermingling  with  the  lays  of  angels  and 
archangels — ever  emulating  the  cry  of  Cherubim  and 
Seraphim — ever  throughout  the  unbroken  cycle  of 
eternity — let  my  song  be  of  Thy  incomprehensible 
mercy !  That  Anthem  of  Mercy !  for  thousands  of 
ages  hath  it  rolled  its  thrilling  numbers  over  the 
undulating  plains  and  eminences  of  the  Cloudless 
City,  and  still  it  is  ever  fresh  and  ever  delightful. 
And,  blending  in  the  unrivalled  harmony,  methinks 
I  can  distinguish  the  silvery  voices  of  the  endeared 


196  CLEMENCY. 

of  yore,  whose  last  faltering  cadences,  as  they 
neared  the  celestial  confines  and  beheld  the  waiting 
convoy,  were  but  gentle  modulations  into  the  im 
mortal  key-note,  JESUS.  Thrice  blessed  friends! 
oft  do  I,  in  imagination,  discern  ye  in  your  snowy 
vestments,  as,  harps  in  hand,  ye  roam  the  flowery 
banks  of  the  Eiver  of  Life. 

A.  B.  G. 


CLEMENCY.  197 


mt 


"  Abide  with  us :  for  it  is  toward  evening,  and  the  day  is  far 

spent." 

BIDE  with  me  !  fast  falls  the  eventide ; 
The    darkness    thickens;    Lord,    with    me 

abide>  * 

When  other  helpers  fail,  and  comforts  flee, 
Help  of  the  helpless,  oh,  abide  with  me ! 

Swift  to  its  close  ebbs  out  life's  little  day  ; 
Earth's  joys  grow  dim  ;  its  glories  pass  away  I 
Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I  see  ; 
O  Thou,  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me ! 

Xot  a  brief  glance  I  beg — a  passing  word, 
But  as  Thou  dwell'st  with  Thy  disciples,  Lord ; 
Familiar,  condescendent,  patient,  free, 
Come,  not  to  sojourn,  but  abide  with  me. 

Come  not  in  terrors,  as  the  King  of  kings, 
But  kind  and  good,  with  healing  in  Thy  wings ; 
Tears  for  all  woes,  a  heart  for  every  plea, 
Come,  Friend  of  Sinners,  thus  abide  with  me ! 


198  CLEMENCY. 

Thou  on  my  head  in  early  youth  didst  smile, 
And,  though  rebellious  and  perverse  meanwhile, 
Thou  hast  not  left  me,  oft  as  I  left  Thee ; 
On  to  the  close,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me ! 

I  need  Thy  presence,  every  passing  hour ; 
What  but  Thy  grace  can  foil  the  tempter's  power  ? 
Who  like  Thyself  my  guide  and  stay  can  be  ? 
Through  cloud  and  sunshine,  oh,  abide  with  me ! 

I  fear  no  foe  with  Thee  at  hand  to  bless ; 
Ills  have  no  weight,  and  tears  no  bitterness. 
Where  is  Death's  sting?  where,  Grave,  thy  victory, 
I  triumph  still,  if  Thou  abide  with  me ! 

Hold  Thou  Thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes ; 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies ; 
Heaven's  morning  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows 

flee ; — 
In  life,  in  death,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me ! 

KEV.  H.  F.  LYTE. 


CLEMENCY.  199 


HE  was  a  poor  old  sick  slave  in  one  of  the 
"West  Indian  islands ;  her  owner  had  given 
her  a  poor  hovel  to  live  in,  and  there  she 
lay  on  her  mean  bed  unable  to  help  herself, 
subsisting   on   what   her   neighbor  brought 
her,  and  dependent  on  her  for  attendance.     Poor 
Maimie  !     One  would  have  thought  she  was  a  piti 
able  object;  but  not  so  thought  Maimie.     She  was 
so  happy,  that  her  Christian  sisters  said  it  was  a 
treat  to  visit  her.    She  loved  Jesus — she  had  obeyed 
him  in  health,  she  now  trusted  and  praised  him  in 
sickness ;    and  "  His  Father  loved  her,  and  they 
came  and  made  Their  abode  with  her."     Yes,  that 
poor  hut  was  a  Temple  of  the  King  of  kings.     One 
Sabbath  evening,  many  had  gone  in  to  see  her  as  they 
passed  from  the  chapel,  to  tell  her  something  good, 
and    Maimie   was   more  joyful  than- usual.      She 
spoke  of  the  love  of   Jesus  to  a  poor   "nigger." 
She  said  "  Maimie  soon  see  Him — soon  be  wid  Him 
for  eber  and  eber(,     Oh,  joy!   joy!  no  more  pain 


200 


CLEMENCY. 


dar — no  more  long,  long  night — no  more  hunger. 
Oh,  what  me  do  for  praise  Him  ?  Glory,  glory  !" 
Early  the  next  morning  she  was  seen  outside  her 
door.  With  a  desperate  effort  she  had  crawled  out, 
and  raising  herself  by  the  door-post,  she  waved  her 
withered  hand  over  her  head,  and  shouted : 

"  I'se  boun'  for  de  kingdom, 
Will  ye  go  to  glory  wid  me  ?" 

Before  any  one  could  get  to  her,  she  was  dead. 
She  had  praised  her  Maker  while  she  had  breath, 
and,  no  doubt,  ere  her  poor  old  clay  had  been  again 
laid  upon  her  comfortless  bed,  her  spirit  had  resumed 
the  blissful  employment,  and  stood  before  the 
throne  a  trophy  of  the  Saviour's  triumph  over  ig 
norance,  degradation,  and  sin. 


CLEMENCY.  201 


HEEE  is  a  land  of  calm  delight, 
To  sorrowing  mortals  given ; 
There  rapturous  scenes  enchant  the  sight, 
And  all  to  soothe  their  souls  unite ; 
Sweet  is  their  rest  in — Heaven. 

There  glory  beams  on  all  the  plains, 

And  joy  for  hope  is  given  ; 
There  music  swells  in  sweetest  strains, 
And  spotless  beauty  ever  reigns, 

And  all  is  love  in — Heaven. 

There  cloudless  skies  are  ever  bright ; 

Thence  gloomy  scenes  are  driven ; 
There  suns  dispense  unsullied  light, 
And  planets  beaming  on  the  sight, 

Illume  the  fields  of — Heaven. 

There  is  a  stream  that  ever  flows, 
To  passing  pilgrims  given ; 
9* 


202  CLEMENCY. 

There  fairest  fruit  immortal  grows ; 
The  verdant  flower  eternal  blows, 
Amid  the  field  of — Heaven. 

There  is  a  great  and  glorious  prize, 

For  those  with  sin  who've  striven ; 
'Tis  bright  as  star  of  evening  skies, 
And  far  above  it  glittering  lies, 
A  golden  crown  in — Heaven. 

SCOTTISH. 


CLEMENCY.  203 


3ftt  p  p  Jmra. 

YOUNG  friend  of  mine  lately  died,  and  in 
the  dreamy  wanderings  of  his  last  hours 
seemed  to  think  that  his  lassitude  and  pain 
were  occasioned  by  hard  labor.  He  often 
said,  as  he  tossed  in  his  agony,  "  Oh,  let  me 
go  home !  I  am  very  weary." 

In  these  words,  methought,  we  have  the  expres 
sion  of  many  a  Christian  soul.  Though  willing  to 
abide  as  a  hireling  his  day,  he  is  weary  with 
task-work,  and  would  be  glad  to  have  the  yoke 
lifted  from  his  neck.  And,  blessed  be  God,  there 
is  a  home  where  Christ  will  receive  His  people, 
worn  with  toil,  at  the  close  of  the  clay.  There  re- 
maineth  a  rest  for  the  people  of  God,  a  Sabbath 
after  the  working-days,  a  jubilee  after  the  bondage, 
a  "  continuing  city  "  after  the  pilgrimage.  :i  father 
land  after  the  exile.  Oh,  that  we  were  panting  for 
it  more !  Oh,  that  we  were  prizing  it  more  duly  ! 
Oh,  that  we  were  better  prepared  to  enter  on  it ! 
Good  Mr.  Waugh,  of  London,  used  to  say, 


204:  CLEMENCY. 

<c  There  will  be  rest  enough,  in  heaven."  True  and 
gracious  words.  Let  them  encourage  us  during 
hours  of  weariness  in  service.  Heaven  will  be 
sweeter  for  our  weariness.  Though  we  ought  not 
to  be  discontented,  nor  in  haste  to  be  gone,  we  may 
sometimes  lawfully  be  "in  a  strait  betwixt  two," 
longing  to  be  with  Christ,  "  which  is  far  better." 
Our  home  is  above : 

"  There  my  best  friends,  my  kindred  dwell, 
There  God  my  Saviour  reigns." 

An  eminent  German  Christian  once  said  to  a 
friend  of  mine,  "  I  am  a  home-sick  man."  Thus 
he  strongly  expressed  his  desire  of  Heaven.  Pro 
bably  every  Christian  often  looks  upward  and 
ejaculates  with  the  dying  youth,  "Let  me  go 
home!" 


CLEMENCY.  205 


AY  of  wrath  !  that  awful  day 
Shall  the  banner'd  cross  display. 
Earth  in  ashes  melt  away  ! 

The  trembling,  the  agony, 
When  His  coming  shall  be  nigh, 
Who  shall  all  things  judge  and  try ! 

When  the  trumpet's  thrilling  tone 
Through  the  tombs  of  ages  gone, 
Summons  all  before  the  throne. 

Death  and  Time  shall  stand  aghast ; 
And  Creation,  at  the  blast 
Rise  to  answer  for  the  past. 

Then  the  volume  shall  be  spread, 

And  the  writing  shall  be  read, 

Which  shall  judge  the  quick  and  dead. 

Then  the  Judge  shall  sit ;  oh  !  then, 
All  that's  hid  shall  be  made  plain, 
Unrequited  naught  remain. 


206  CLEMENCY. 

"What  shall  wretched  I  then  plead  ? 
Who  for  me  shall  intercede, 
When  the  righteous  scarce  is  freed  ? 

King  of  dreadful  Majesty, 
Saving  souls  in  mercy  free, 
Fount  of  Pity,  save  Thou  me  1 

Bear  me,  Lord,  in  heart,  I  pray, 
Object  of  Thy  saving  way. 
Lest  Thou  lose  me  on  that  Day. 

Weary,  seeking  me,  wast  Thou, 
And  for  me  in  death  didst  bow — 
Be  Thy  toils  availing  now  ! 

Judge  of  Justice,  Thee,  I  pray, 
Grant  me  pardon,  while  I  may, 
Ere  that  awful  reckoning  day. 

O'er  my  crimes  I  guilty  groan, 
Blush  to  think  what  I  have  done ; 
Spare  Thy  suppliant,  Holy  One. 

Thou  didst  set  the  adultress  free — 
Heard'st  the  thief  upon  the  tree — 
Hope  vouchsafing  e'en  to  me. 


CLEMENCY.  207 

Naught  of  Thee  my  prayers  can  claim ; 
Save  in  Thy  free  mercy's  name, 
Save  me  from  the  deathless  flame. 

With  Thy  sheep  my  place  assign, 

Separate  from  th'  accursed  line  ; 

Set  me  on  Thy  right  hand,  with  Thine. 

When  the  lost,  to  silence  driven, 
To  devouring  flames  are  given, 
Call  me,  with  the  blest,  to  Heaven. 

Suppliant,  fallen,  low  I  bend, 
My  bruised  heart  to  ashes  rend ; 
Care  Thou,  Lord,  for  my  last  end. 

Full  of  tears  the  day  shall  prove, 
When,  from  ashes  rising,  move 
To  the  judgment  guilty  men; 
Spare,  Thou  God  of  mercy,  then ! 

[This  powerful  hymn  was  originally  written  in 
Latin  by  Thomas  Yan  Celano,  about  the  year  1250, 
and  has  been  set  to  music  by  Mozart  and  several 
other  composers.  Goethe  has  quoted  from  it  in 
«  Faust,"  and  Scott  in  the  "  Lay  of  the  Last  Min 
strel."  The  present  translation  is  by  the  author  of 
the  "  Cathedral."] 


208 


CLEMENCY. 


j  m 

i  HE  following  was  the  dying  testimony  of 
the  learned  Selden :  "I  have  taken  much 
pains  to  know  everything  that  was  esteemed 
worth  knowing  among  men ;  but  with  all 
my  disquisitions  and  readings,  nothing  now 
remains  with  me,  to  comfort  me,  at  the  close  of  life, 
but  this  passage  of  St.  Paul :  c  It  is  a  faithful  say 
ing,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ 
Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners ;'  to  this  I 
cleave,  and  herein  I  find  rest." 


CLEMENCY.  209 


grams  0f 

HE  Poet  dreamt  of  Heaven ! 
He  strayed,  a  little  child,  amidst  the  glen, 
Where,  in  his  boyhood  he'd  been  wont  to 

stray ; 

He  heard  the  very  sounds  he  loved  so  then, 
And  knew' the  very  forms.    'Twas  in  this 
way 

The  Poet  dreamt  of  Heaven ! 

The  Mother  dreamt  of  Heaven ! 
She  saw  her  children  decked  in  gems  and  flowers ; 

And  one,  whose  health  had  always  been  amiss, 
"Was  blooming  now  as  those  celestial  bowers 

He  laughed  to  roam  among.     And,  dreaming  this 
The  Mother  dreamt  of  Heaven ! 

Her  Children  dreamt  of  Heaven ! 
Oh !  'twas  a  glorious  land,  where  daisies  grew, 

And  hidden  music  round  it  sounded  low  ; 
And  playtime  lasted  there  the  whole  year  through, 
And  angels  came  and  joined  with  them.   'Twas  so 
Her  children  dreamt  of  Heaven ! 


210  CLEMENCY. 

The  Trav'ler  dreamt  of  Heaven ! 
The  sun  one  morn  with  trebled  splendor  rose, 

And  showed  his  wearied  eyes  a  place  at  last, 
Where  all  was  taintless  joy,  and  calm  repose, 
And  quiet  thinking  of  the  dangerous  past. 
They  said  its  name  was  Heaven. 

The  Mourner  dreamt  of  Heaven! 
Before  his  eyes,  so  long  with  sorrow  dim, 

A    glorious    sheen,    like    lengthened    lightning 

blazed ; 

And  from  the  clouds  one  face  looked  down  on  him, 
"Whose  beauty  thrilled  his  veins.     And  as  he 
gazed, 

He  knew  he  gazed  on  Heaven ! 

And  let  them  all  dream  on ! 
Heaven's  for  the  pure,  the  just,  the  undefiled : 

And  so  our  lives,  by  holy  faith,  are  such. 
Our  dreams  may  be  erroneous,  varying,  wild ; 
But  oh !  we  cannot  think  and  hope  too  much : 
So  let  them  all  dream  on  ! 


C  \  f  8  15  0  5  r  a  s  a  s * 

:Prosperity. 

"  Keep  yourselves  in  the  love  of  God,  looking  for  the  mercy  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life." 

>HE  CHRYSOPKASUS  is  the  precious 
stone  of  the  tenth  foundation  of  the 
City  of  the  Great  King,  where  it  is  sealed 
with  the  name  of  Jude.  The  agate  is 
formed  of  an  aggregate  of  crystals  and 
other  precious  minerals,  and  is,  consequently,  a 
picturesque  and  fancifully  marked  gem  of  endless 
variety  of  colors  and  devices.  One  kind  is  of  a 
cloudy  green,  striped  and  spotted  with  gold,  and 
this  is,  saith  my  authority,  the  chrysoprasus  of  the 
Revelation.  Many  agates  have  been  quite  famous 
for  their  beauty.  King  Pyrrhus  had  a  ring  made 
of  this  stone  (says  Kelly),  in  which  sat  the  nine 
muses,  with  their  distinct  symbols  or  devices, 
and  Apollo  holding  a  harp.  Tradition  speaks  of 
others  that  displayed  perfect  images  of  men,  single 

and  in  groups,  horses,  trees,  landscapes,  flowers, 

211 


212  PEOSPEEITY. 

clouds  and  cities.  Some  specimens  are  found  semi- 
pellucid,  but  more  generally  the  agate  is  opaque. 
The  chief  excellency  of  this  gem  was  esteemed  to 
be  that  it  was  an  unfailing  antidote  against  the 
wounds  of  vipers  and  scorpions.  One  celebrated 
commentator,  Dr.  Prideaux,  considers  the  chryso- 
prasus  to  typify  Patience ;  but,  being  the  symbol 
of  Asher,  whose  very  appellation  signifies  happy — 
for  whom  Moses,  in  his  swan-like  song,  predicted 
every  imaginable  good,  and  whose  life  was  signally 
fortunate  and.  felicitous,  he  being  blessed  with  all 
the  varieties  that  sea  and  land  could  supply — 
PROSPERITY  appears  the  more  appropriate  interpre 
tation. 

Saint  Jude,  elsewhere  called  Lebbeus  and  Thad- 
deus — for  the  sacred  writers  shun,  apparently,  the 
name  of  the  perfidious  Iscariot — although  the 
brother  of  Christ,  does  not  figure  as  a  prominent 
character  among  the  disciples,  for  there  is  scarcely 
any  note  of  him.  Ecclesiastical  writers,  however, 
affirm  him  to  have  been  an  apostle  of  superior 
powers  and  achievements.  The  specimen  of  his 
writings  here  quoted  is  from  his  sole  Epistle. 
As  an  exhortation  it  is  not  surpassed  for  earnestness 
and  fervor  by  any  of  the  inspired  penmen.  "  Keep 
yourselves  in  the  love  of  God,  looking  for  the 


PEOSPERITT.  213 

mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life." 
How  masterly  is  the  transition  from  the  solemn 
denunciations  which  he  thunders  on  the  wicked, 
admonishing  them  of  the  impending  vengeance 
of  God,  which  are  so  closely  interwoven  through 
out  the  whole  previous  part  of  the  chapter,  to  this 
tender,  soul-felt  valedictory  to  his  beloved  disci 
ples  !  In  this  passage  there  is  a  dual  lesson  in 
culcated — a  twofold  duty  enjoined.  The  first 
division,  "  Keep  yourselves,"  implies  personal 
effort ;  that  a  certain  amount,  at  least,  of  power 
is  vested  in  ourselves  ; — and  in  the  next  place,  that 
having  exerted  ourselves  to  the  utmost,  we  are  to 
be  always,  for  further  strength,  "  looking  for  the 
mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life." 

Herein  is  the  genuine  prosperity ;  to  bask  in 
the  smile  of  God's  favor  here,  and  to  have  a  title 
to  eternal  life  hereafter.  To  a  soul  who  is  possessed 
of  this,  death  will  come,  not  as  a  grim,  frightful 
monster,  but  in  the  guise  of  a  loving  angel-messen 
ger  to  tranquillize  him  to  peaceful  slumber.  Said 
Eollin,  when  dying,  "  I  wish  to  see  no  tears,  and 
no  marks  of  affliction ;  this  day  with  us  is  a  festi 
val."  He  who  cultivates  such  a  frame  of  mind  as 
Jude  exhorts,  will  feast  daintily  on  a  crust  of 
bread,  and  enjoy  honeyed  slumber  mid  the  straw 


214 


PKOSPEBITY. 


of  a  hovel.  Adversity,  and  the  ills  of  this  life, 
fall  but  lightly  on  him  who  knows  that  "  a  glorious 
kingdom  and  a  beautiful  crown  from  the  Lord's 
hand  "  await  him  after  that  he  has  endured  a  few 
more  conflicts  in  the  service  of  his  Great  Captain. 
"  This  is  the  prosperity  of  them  that  love  Thee," 
a  soul  unscathed  by  the  turmoils  and  trials  of  the 
chequered  mazes  of  the  world,  and  an  unalienable 
title  to  one  of  the  many  mansions  on  high. 

"  Tis  but  a  night,  a  long  and  moonless  night, 
We  make  the  grave  our  bed,  and  then  are  gone. 
Thus  at  the  shut  of  even  the  weary  bird 
Leaves  the  wide  air,  and  in  some  lonely  brake 
Cowers  down,  and  dozes  till  the  dawn  of  day ; 
Then  claps  its  well-fledged  wings  and  bears  away." 

A.  B.  G. 


PROSPERITY.  215 


STAND  upon  the  river's  verge, 

Its  waves  break  at  my  feet ; 
And  can  the  roar  of  this  dark  surge 

Sound  in  my  ears  so  sweet  ? 
Higher  and  higher  swells  its  wave, 

Nearer  the  billows  come ; 
And  can  a  dark  and  lonely  grave 

Outweigh  a  long-loved  home  ? 

15s  not  alone  the  billow's  roar 

That  falls  upon  my  ear  ; 
But  music  from  yon  far-off  shore 

Is  wafted  sweet  and  clear ; 
For  angel  harps  are  tuned  to  cheer 

My  faltering  human  faith, 
And  angel  tongues  are  chanting  there 

Triumphal  hope  in  death. 

Though  dim  and  clouded  grows  my  sight, 

It  rests  not  on  the  grave ; 
It  sees  a  land  in  glory  bright 

Beyond  the  darkening  wave ; 


216  PROSPERITY. 

The  gales  that  toss  its  crest  of  foam 
Come  from  that  far-off  shore, — 

They  whisper  of  another  home 
Where  parting  is  no  more. 

The  everlasting  hills  arise, 

Bright  in  immortal  bloom, 
The  radiance  of  those  sunny  skies 

Illumines  e'en  the  tomb  ; 
And  glorious  on  those  hills  of  light 

I  see  my  own  abode, — 
E'en  now  its  turrets  are  in  sight — 

The  City  of  our  God ! 

Loved  faces  look  upon  me  now, 

And  well  known  voices  speak ! 
Oh  !  when  they  left  me  long  ago, 

I  thought  my  heart  would  break  ! 
They  beckon  me  to  yonder  strand, 

Their  hymns  of  triumph  swell, 
I  see  my  own,  my  kindred  band, — 

Earth,  home,  and  time,  farewell ! 

Welcome,  the  waves  that  bear  me  o'er, 
Though  dark  and  cold  they  be ! 

To  gain  my  home  011  yonder  shore 
I'll  brave  them  joyously ; 


PROSPERITY.  217 

The  snowy,  blood-washe'd  robe  I'll  wear, 

The  palm  of  victory ! 
Welcome,  the  waves  that  waft  me  there, 

Though  dark  and  cold  they  be ! 


10 


218  PROSPEEITT. 


after 

HAT  a  moment  must  that  be?  how  vast 
its  consequences ! — how  overwhelming 
its  revelations !  Let  us  try,  by  illustra 
tion,  to  realize  it.  There  dies  a  saint 
of  God.  The  summons  was  sudden,  but 
his  house  was  in  order,  and,  with  a  smile  on  his 
face,  he  bids  a  glad  adieu  to  the  scenes  of  friendship 
on  earth.  Coldness  passes  from  point  to  point  in 
his  system  ;  his  vision  grows  dim ;  his  tongue  falter 
ing  ;  but  in  strong  faith  he  commits  his  all  to  the  Con 
queror  of  death,  and  passes  away  shouting  an  ever 
lasting  victory !  The  spirit  soars — angels  attend  it — 
the  gates  of  the  city  are  open  to  receive  it — the 
King  is  seen  in  His  beauty — and  now  heaven  is 
enjoyed  in  all  its  bliss  and  glory !  Waking  up  from 
his  life-dream,  the  first  sight  is  Jesus  as  he  is — no 
flight  through  immensity — no  pilgrimage  of  the 
spheres — for  the  everlasting  arms  are  the  resting 
place  of  the  disembodied  soul — it  will  be  in  the 
bosom  of  Immanuel  that  the  emancipated  spirit 
will  inquire,  "  Where  am  I  ?"  and  read  in  the  face 
of  Jesus  the  answer,  "  Forever  with  the  Lord !" 


PEOSPEEITT.  219 


ftg  f 0m*  is  tort  JTO 

Y  home  is  not  on  earth ;  far,  far  away. 

In  regions  bright, 
Where  shines  an  everlasting  day, 

Unpal'd  by  night ; 

"Where  countless  throngs,  in  spirit  one, 
Forever  glorious  as  the  sun, 
Shall  live,  when  time  has  ceased  to  run, — 
There  is  my  home. 

Earth's  pleasures  may  not  satisfy  my  soul ; 

Its  tinsel  glare, 
But  makes  me  pant  to  reach  that  goal 

Serene  and  fair ; 

Where  peace  and  love  the  air  perfume — 
Where  an  eternal  summer's  bloom, 
And  joy,  and  gladness,  banish  gloom, — 

There  is  my  home. 

Fair  streams  and  smiling  meads  I  now  behold, 

In  bright  array ; 
And  beauteous  flowers  their  varied  charms  unfold, 

But  to  decay. 


220  PROSPERITY. 

"Where  streams  of  crystal  onward  flow — 
Where  streets  of  gold  in  splendor  glow, 
And  fadeless  flowers  in  beauty  grow, — 
There  is  my  home. 

Now  while  on  earth  I  many  kind  friends  see, 

Dear  to  my  heart, 
Whose  love  and  friendship  cheer ;  but  we 

Meet  to  depart. 

Where  lips  shall  never  breathe  farewell, 
!N"or  tears  the  parting  anguish  tell, 
Where  friends  united  ever  dwell, — 

There  is  my  home. 

On  high,  by  faith,  my  vision  can  command 

My  Saviour  King ; 
And  saints  with  harps  of  gold  before  him  stand, 

His  praise  to  sing ! 
Where,  seated  on  the  eternal  throne, 
He  shall  his  faithful  followers  own 
With  gracious  smile ;  in  heaven  alone — 

There  is  my  home ! 

KOBERT  FRAME. 


PEOSPEEITT.  221 


TJR  relatives  in  eternity  outnumber  our 
relatives  in  time.  The  catalogue  of  the 
living  we  love  becomes  less,  and  in  antici 
pation  we  see  the  perpetually  lengthening 
train  of  the  departed ;  and  by  their  flight 
our  affections  grow  gradually  less  glued  to  earth, 
and  more  allied  to  heaven.  It  is  not  in  vain  that 
the  images  of  our  departed  children,  and  near  and 
dear  ones,  are  laid  up  in  memory,  as  in  a  picture 
gallery,  from  which  the  ceaseless  surge  of  this 
world's  cares  cannot  obliterate  them.  They  wait 
there  for  the  light  of  the  resurrection-day,  to  stand 
forth  holy,  beautiful,  and  happy,  our  fellow-wor 
shippers  forever. 


222 


PROSPERITY. 


gtpifr  t\t 

These  beautiful  lines,  from  the  "  Dublin  University  Magazine," 
will  remind  the  reader  of  the  last  scene  in  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress." 

.,IME  is  a  river  deep  and  wide, 

And  while  along  its  banks  we  stray, 
We  see  our  lov'd  ones  o'er  its  tide 
Sail  from  our  sight,  away,  away. 
Where  are  they  sped — they  who  return 

No  more  to  glad  our  longing  eyes  ? 
They've  passed  from  life's  contracted  bourne 
.  To  land  unseen,  unknown,  that  lies 

Beyond  the  river. 

'Tis  hid  from  view,  but  we  may  guess 

How  beautiful  that  realm  must  be ; 
For  gleamings  of  its  loveliness, 

In  visions  granted,  oft  we  see. 
The  very  clouds  that  o'er  it  'throw 

Their  veil,  unraised  for  mortal  sight, 
With  gold  and  purple  tiritings  glow, 

Reflected  from  the  glorious  light 

Beyond  the  river. 


PROSPERITY.  223 


And  gentle  airs,  so  sweet,  so  calm, 

Steal  sometimes  from  that  viewless  sphere ; 
The  mourner  feels  their  breath  of  balm, 

And  soothed  sorrow  dries  the  tear ; 
And  sometimes  list'ning  ear  may  gain 

Entrancing  sound  that  hither  floats ; 
The  echo  of  a  distant  strain, 

Of  harps'  and  voices'  blended  notes, 

Beyond  the  river. 

There  are  our  loved  ones  in  their  rest ; 

They've  cross'd  Time's  river— now  no  more 
They  heed  the  bubbles  on  its  breast, 

Nor  feel  the  storms  that  sweep  its  shore. 
But  there  pure  love  can  live,  can  last — 

They  look  for  us  their  home  to  share  : 
When  we  in  turn  away  have  pass'd, 

What  joyful  greetings  wait  us  there, 

Beyond  the  river. 


224:  PKOSPEEITT. 


§F  you  listen  even  to  David's  harp,  you  shall 
hear  as  many  hearse-like  airs  as  carols ;  and 
^   the  pencil  of  the  Holy  Spirit  hath  labored 
<©  more  in  describing  the  afflictions  of  Job  than 
«>    the  felicities  of  Solomon.     Prosperity  is  not 
without  many  fears  and  distrusts ;  and  adversity  is 
not  without  comforts  and  hopes.    "We  see,  in  needle 
works  and  embroideries,  it  is  more  pleasant  to  have 
a  lively  work  upon  a  dark  and  solemn  ground,  than 
to  have  a  dark  and  melancholy  work  upon  a  light 
some  ground.     Judge,  therefore,  of  the  pleasures 
of  the  heart  by  the  pleasures  of  the  eye.    Certainly 
virtue  is  like  precious  odors,  most  fragrant  when 
they  are  crushed  ;  for  prosperity  doth  best  discover 
vice,  but  adversity  doth  best  discover  virtue. 

LOUD 


PKOSPEKITY.  225 


f  rate's  fast 

E  wish  thee  joy,  oh  friend!  who,  travel- 
stained 
And  worn,  dost  rest  thee  from    thy 

journeying ; 
"We  wish  thee  joy,  pure  soul !  that  thou 

hast  gained 

The  golden  courts,  the  palace  of  our  King: 
Safe  in  the  haven  blest, 
Rest  thee,  dear  spirit,  rest. 

Do  not  thy  earnest  eyes,  oh  gentle  friend ! 

In  their  dark  beauty,  many  an  anxious  glance 
Cast  on  the  loved  ones  'midst  whom  thou  didst 

spend, 

Thy  lustrums  five  of  Time's  inhabitance ; — 
Who  mourn  in  fruitless  tears, 
The  perished  hopes  of  years  ? 

Springing  from  earth  on  snowy  pinions  borne, 

Thy  dying  smile  gave  earnest  of  thy  joy  ; 
Bathed  in  the  crimson  of  th'  approaching  mom, 

10* 


226  PROSPERITY. 

Thy  placid  brow  spoke  peace  without  alloy. 
Sweetly  thy  benison  fell, 
Like  music's  richest  swell. 

Me  thinks  the  first  to  hail  thy  glad  awaking, 

"Was  one,  a  youthful  soul,  in  vesture  bright ; 
Whose  loss  with  us  thou  wept,  when  he,  forsaking 
This  Yale  of  Shadows,  sought  the  mount  of  light. 
Dear  kindred  spirits,  rest 
Safe  in  the  haven  blest. 

'Twas  hard  to  lay  thy  stately  form  in  dust, 

The  classic  head,  and  clustering  raven  hair ; — 
The  cunning  hands,  that,  true  to  art's  high  trust 
"Wrought  into  being  glints  of  beauty  rare. 
But  angels  guard  thy  tomb 
Till  the  New  Spring  shall  bloom. 

To  Greenwood,  city  of  the  loved  and  treasured, 

We  bore  thee,  where  the  mourning  willows  bend, 
'Mid  winter's  chilling  rain,  sad  steps  we  measured, 
And  laid  thee  to  soft  sleep,  beloved  friend  ! 
Rest,  till  the  Trump's  loud  sound, 
Arouse  the  slumberers  round  ! 

Flows  there   a   Lethean  stream  where  thou   dost 

dwell, 
Flows  a  dark  fount,  old  memories  to  efface  ? 


PROSPERITY.  227 

Or  do  the  Eden  waters  in  their  swell, 
But  sanctify  them  with  a  nobler  grace  ? 
Bright  nursling  of  the  sky, 
Can  faithful  love  e'er  die  ? 

Ah,  spirit  wandering  by  the  Tree  of  Life, 

Waking  thy  tuneful  harp  in  prelude  sweet ; 
Hast  thou  no  visions  of  this  land  of  strife, 

No  yearning  hopes  the  loved  of  yore  to  greet — 
On  the  Eternal  shore, 
"When  time  shall  be  no  more  ? 

Y  es :  by  my  soul's  own  fervor  well  I  know, 

Oblivion  may  not  mar  that  holy  state ; 
Once  loved,  loved  ever,  say  is  it  not  so, 

Thou  who  hast  entered  through  the  pearly  gate  ? 
Would  that  we,  spirit  blest, 
Might  share  thy  peaceful  rest ! 

A.  B.  G. 


228 


PEOSPEEITY. 


tot  wt 


TJST  above  the  Highlands,  the  Hudson  is 
widened  into  what  is  called  Newburgh 
Bay  ;  it  is  a  beautiful  expanse  of  water,  rest 
ing  against  the  hills,  as  if  it  had  gathered 
itself  up  for  strength,  before  it  burst  away 
through  the  mountain  barriers  into  the  sea.  On 
the  eastern  shore  as  it  slopes  toward  the  bay,  is  a 
church  and  churchyard,  as  delightfully  planted  for 
prospect  as  any  on  the  banks  of  this  river.  It  was 
in  this  graveyard  that  I  first  met,  on  a  tombstone, 
the  inscription  that  stands  at  the  head  of  these 
lines,  and  the  scene  and  the  associations  render  the 
mention  of  the  circumstance  suitable. 

"  Gone  but  not  lost."  It  was  the  tribute  of  affec 
tion  and  faith.  It  expressed  in  simple  but  graphic 
words  the  sad  truth  that  one  was  gone,  and  also 
the  sublime  assurance  that  the  departed  was  not 
lost. 

Was  it  a  fact  ?  I  confess  it  startled  me  at  first. 
A  few  months  since,  and  the  one  whose  grave  I 


PROSPERITY. 


229 


was  standing  by,  had  lived  and  moved,  and  filled, 
perhaps  no  little  space  in  a  wide  circle  of  friends. 
But  the  place  was  now  vacant ;  the  outer  man  had 
been  seen  to  fail  day  by  day ;  death  finished  the 
work,  the  grave  covered  it  up,  the  worms  had 
their  prey.  And  not  lost !  not  lost !  I  reasoned  a 
moment  before  I  could  be  satisfied  that  the  epitaph 
was  not  (like  most  epitaphs)  mere  rhetoric. 

A  broad  and  beautiful  stream  was  before  me. 
Its  waters  were  rolling  silently  but  steadily  on 
towards  the  mighty  sea.  They  are  here — they  are 
gOne — never,  never  to  return.  Are  they  lost? 
Every  drop  is  there,  as  pure  and  perennial  as  when 
gliding  at  my  feet. 

A  white-sailed  vessel  was  just  entering  the  gap 
of  the  Highlands ;  the  summer  breeze  freshened, 
and  bore  it  out  of  view.  It  was  gone,  but  it  was 
not  lost. 

The  star  that  "  melts  away  into  the  light  of  hea 
ven,"  when  the  bright  sun  rises  upon  the  world,  or 
the  star  that  goes  down  below  the  western  hills,  or 
the  sun  itself  that  sets  in  glory,  is  gone;  but  to 
shine  again  with  equal  or  brighter  lustre.  It  is  not 
lost.  Not  a  ray  of  its  living  light  has  perished. 

A  holy  man,  in  the  early  ages  of  the  world, 
walked  with  God  and  "  was  not,"— for  God  took 


230 


PEOSPEKITT. 


him.  He  was  gone.  The  places  that  knew  him 
once  knew  him  no  more.  But  he  was  not  lost.  He 
lived;  he  yet  lives. 

A  certain  prophet  of  the  Lord  was  walking  with 
another  whom  he  tenderly  loved ;  and  suddenly 
there  "  appeared  a  chariot  of  fire,  and  horses  of 
fire,  and  parted  them  both  asunder;  and  Elijah 
went  up  by  a  whirlwind  into  heaven.  And  Elisha 
saw  it,  and  he  erred,  My  father,  my  father,  the 
chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horses  thereof.  And  lie 
saw  him  no  more."  He  was  gone,  but  not  lost. 

A  disconsolate  female  came  to  the  grave  of  her 
best  beloved  friend,  and  as  she  saw  that  his  pre 
cious  remains  were  gone,  she  cried,  "They  have 
taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they 
have  laid  him."  She  thought  in  her  sorrow,  as 
most  of  the  bereaved  are  wont  to  think,  that  she 
had  lost  her  all ;  when  one  stood  before  her  and 
said,  "Mary,"  and  the  joy  of  life  from  the  dead 
burst  in  rapture  on  her  soul.  It  was  the  voice  of 
her  beloved.  She  had  found  her  Lord.  He  was 
gone,  but  not  lost. 

This  was  a  natural,  if  not  a  profitable  train  of 
thought.  A  believer  writes  this  inscription  over 
the  ashes  of  a  departed  saint.  Day  by  day  disease 
wears  away  the  tabernacle  of  clay;  by  and  by 


PROSPERITY. 


231 


death  dashes  in  pieces  the  "  golden  bowl,"  and  the 
wheel  at  the  cistern  stands  still.  But  the  freed 
spirit  starts  into  new  existence  before  the  eternal 
throne,  and  like  an  angel  of  light,  leaps  in  gladness 
and  glory  unutterable  and  inconceivable.  And  is 
that  saint  lost  f  In  a  diamond  mine  is  found  a  clod 
of  earth  that  contains  a  gem  of  great  price.  It  is 
taken  from  him  that  found  it,  and  polished  for  him 
who  owns  the  mine  and  all  its  gems ;  and  now  it 
sparkles  on  the  bosom  of  the  queen,  or  shines 
radiantly  in  the  royal  coronet.  Is  that  jewel  lost? 
And  if  the  Monarch  of  the  Universe  could  find  in 
thb  darkness  of  this  lower  world,  gems  that  infinite 
skill  can  polish  for  His  use,  shall  we  count  them  lost 
when  He  makes  up  His  jewels  and  takes  them  to 
Himself? 


232  PROSPERITY. 


%\t   Clrrista 

HE  hour,  the  hour,  the  parting  hour, 
That  takes  from  this  dark  world  its  power, 
And  lays  at  once  its  thorn  and  flower 

On  -the  same  withering  bier,  my  soul ! 
The  hour  that  ends  all  earthly  woes, 
And  gives  the  wearied  soul  repose, — 
How  soft,  how  sweet,  that  last,  long  close 
Of  mortal  hope  and  fear,  my  soul ! 

How  sweet,  while  on  this  broken  lyre 

The  melodies  of  time  expire, 

To  feel  it  strung  with  chords  of  fire, 

To  praise  the  Immortal  One,  my  soul ! 
And  while  our  farewell  tears  we  pour 
To  those  we  leave  on  this  cold  shore, 
To  feel  that  we  shall  weep  no  more, 

Nor  dwell  in  heaven  alone,  my  soul ! 

How  sweet,  while  waning  fast  away 
The  stars  of  this  dim  world  decay, 
To  see,  prophetic  of  the  day, 


PKOSPERITY. 

The  golden  dawn  above,  my  soul ! 
To  feel  we  only  sleep  to  rise 
In  sunnier  lands  in  fairer  skies, 
To  bind  again  our  broken  ties 

In  ever-living  love,  my  soul ! 

The  hour,  the  hour,  so  pure  and  calm, 
That  bathes  the  wounded  soul  in  balm, 
And  round  the  pale  brow  binds  the  palm, 

That  shuns  this  wintry  clime,  my  soul ! 
The  hour  that  draws  o'er  earth  and  all 
Its  briers  and  blooms,  the  mortal  pall, — 
How  soft,  how  sweet  that  evening-fall 

Of  fear,  and  grief,  and  time,  my  soul ! 


233 


1  *  f  i  nt  k 

Simon.  Zelotes.  Victory. 

"  Simon,  called  Zelotes." 

>HE  JACINTH,  or  Ligure,  is  the  precious 
stone  of  the  eleventh  foundation  of  the 
Home  of  the  Sanctified,  where  it  is  in 
scribed  with  the  name  of  Simon.  The 
Jacinth  is  a  gem  of  a  warm  orange  or  amber 
color,  about  semi-transparent.  It  is  called  the 
Ligure,  from  its  native  place,  Ligurea,  a  country 
of  Italy.  Having  no  reliable  guidance  in  assign 
ing  to  it  a  character,  I  am  disposed  to  consider  it 
as  figurative  of  VICTORY,  from  the  language  of 
Moses  to  Gad,  when,  in  the  memorable  closing 
scene  of  his  eventful  pilgrimage,  the  great  Legis 
lator  blessed  the  twelve  tribes,  and  foretold  their 
individual  destinies.  He  thus  prophesied  to  Gad 
of  a  victorious  career  and  triumphant  success 
over  his  enemies :  "  Blessed  be  he  that  enlarge th 
Gad,  he  dwelleth  as  a  lion,  and  teareth  the  arm 
with  the  crown  of  the  head."  The  rich  saffron 

.  864 


VICTOBY.  235 

glow  of  the  jacinth  blending  with  the  royal  pur 
ple  of  the  succeeding  amethyst,  may  suggest  to 
a  spiritualized  imagination,  a  lively  emblem  of 
the  close  of  the  faithful  Christian's  day  ;— of  the 
superb  drapery  of  gold  and  purple  that  canopies 
his  setting  sun,  and  curtains  his  peaceful  exit !  Or, 
perad venture,  it  may  better  serve  to  typify  his 
rising  in  the  resurrection-morn  in  the  full  radiance 
of  immortality. 

Of  Saint  Simon  there  is  no  single  utterance  re 
corded,  no  particular  mention  in  the  Gospels,  save 
that  he  is  enumerated  among  the  chosen  twelve. 
Simon  the  Canaanite  he  is  likewise  called,  probably 
in  reference  to  his  birth-place ;  Zelotes,  being  an 
addition  on  account  of  his  connection  with  the  sect 
of  Zealots.  He  is  generally  believed  to  be  the  bride 
groom  at  whose  nuptials  in  Cana  of  Galilee  our 
Saviour  performed  the  miracle  of  turning  water  into 
wine.  Whether  or  not,  the  title  had,  as  some  are 
disposed  to  think,  allusion  to  the  warmth  of  his 
natural  temper,  he  proved  himself,  according  to 
ecclesiastical  history,  an  indefatigable  apostle  in 
the  service  of  his  Lord,  and  a  victorious  pioneer 
of  the  blessed  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  until,  from 
the  martyr's  cross,  he  ascended  to  receive  the 
victor's  crown.  "This  is  the  victory  that  over- 


236  VICTORY. 

cometh  the  world,  even  our  faith."  The  expres 
sion  of  the  Emperor  Yalentinian,  when  about  to 
quit  the  world,  was  a  memorable  one  :  "  Amongst 
all  my  conquests,  there  is  but  one  that  now  com 
forts  me ;  I  have  overcome  my  worst  enemy,  my 
own  sinful  heart." 

There  is  a  pretty  tradition  extant,  that  the  sun 
always  dances  with  joy  early  on  Easter-morn,  in 
commemoration  of  Christ's  bursting  from  the 
thralldom  of  the  tomb:  and  not  seldom  have  I 
been  summoned  from  childhood's  slumber  to  wit 
ness  the  phenomenon.  But  though  this  sign  often 
fails  through  the  interposition  of  mists  and  obscur 
ing  vapors,  yet,  on  that  momentous  Easter-morn, 
when  Christ,  the  Conquerer,  comes  again  in  the 
magnificence  of  His  Kingdom,  no  cloud  shall  in 
tervene  to  mar  the  effulgence  of  His  rays !  On 
that  all-glorious  Resurrection-morn,  when  the  soul, 
eager  and  glad,  hath  donned  its  olden  garment  of 
flesh,  now  fresh  in  the  lustre  of  immortal  youth, 
and  the  Judgment  is  over  which  eternally  separates 
those  who  have  served  God  from  those  who  have 
served  him  not ;  what  a  triumphal  procession  will 
that  be  when  Christ,  at  the  head  of  His  ransomed 
legions,  marches  through  the  shining  portals  of 
Heaven  !  The  work  of  Creation  and  Eedemption 


VICTORY.  237 

completed,  immortality  now  is  perfect.  Oh,  de 
sponding  soul,  bowed  beneath  the  burden  of 
earth's  griefs,  raise  thy  tearful  eyes,  and  exult  in 
the  ecstatic  anticipation !  Victory !  "While  that 
jubilant  throng  advances  up  the  golden  streets — 
the  bells  of  the  City  all  a-chiming — instruments  of 
music  playing — palms  of  victory  waving — every 
face  beaming  unutterable  pleasure, — what  ac 
clamations  Will  rend  the  perfumed  air,  and  what 
congratulations  and  greetings  will  be  inter 
changed!  Adam  salutes  his  latest  descendant; 
a  patriarch  embraces  an  infant  of  a  few  mundane 
suns  ;  a  seraph  communes  with  an  unlettered 
lazar ;  and  the  last  redeemed  from  the  church 
militant,  joins  in  dulcet  numbers  with  Abel,  the 
first  initiated  into  life  immortal.  All  dissonances 
and  distinctions  of  creed  now  abolished,  none  say 
"  I  am  of  Paul ;  I  of  Apollos,"  but  all  hail  from 
Christ,  their  Living  Head.  Thus  shall  the  true 
Victory  be  celebrated,  in  which,  by  anticipatory 
faith,  believers  even  now  participate  ! 

A.  B.  G. 


238  VICTORY. 


gtott  tlratt  C0nqttwr0rs. 

ORE  than  Conquerors,"  we  sing, 

Pilgrims  in  a  hostile  land, 
Trusting  in  our  Lord  and  King, 

Shielded  by  His  guiding  hand. 
He  from  every  danger  saves, 

Comforts  every  drooping  heart, 
Struggling  through  life's  troublous  waves, 
Peace  and  joy  His  words  impart. 

"  More  than  conquerors  "  we  sing, 

As  we  muse  on  trials  past, 
Anguish  with  its  secret  sting, 

Cares  that  heavy  shadows  cast.— 
Rough  and  thorny  seemed  the  way, 

Dark  the  clouds  above  us  spread, 
But  the  arm  of  Christ,  our  stay, 

Gently,  safely,  onward  led. 

"  More  than  conquerors,"  we'll  sing, 
When  we  reach  our  home  on  high, 

Heaven  shall  with  our  praises  ring, 
Angels  echo  back  the  cry. 


VICTORY.  239 

When  from  some  celestial  height, 

"We  review  our  earthly  road, 
See  how  true^  and  kind,  and  right, 

Were  the  dealings  of  our  God. 

"  More  than  conquerors  "  they  sing, 

Who  have  gained  that  heavenly  shore ; 
They  to  whom  our  spirits  cling, 

Loved  and  cherished,  gone  before. 
As  we  tread  this  vale  of  tears, 

Faintly  we  their  notes  prolong, 
Soon  shall  gladness  banish  fears, 

Soon  we'll  swell  their  victor  song. 

"  More  than  conquerors  through  the  Lamb, 

Who  to  ransom  us  hath  died, 
"Now  before  His  throne  we  stand, 

Sinners  saved  and  purified. — 
Gazing  on  his  glorious  face, 

Joyful  we  before  Him  fall, 
Prince  and  Saviour  full  of  grace, 

Reign  forever,  Lord  of  all !" 

o. 


240  VICTORY. 


CLEKGYMAN  had  for  some  weeks  seen 
a  little  ragged  boy  come  every  Sabbath, 
and  place  himself  in  the  centre  of  the 
aisle,  directly  before  the  pulpit,  where  he 
seemed  very  attentive  to  the  service,  and  as 
if  eating  up  his  words.  He  was  desirous  of  know 
ing  who  the  child  was ;  but  he  never  could  see  him, 
as  he  vanished  the  moment  service  was  over,  and 
no  one  knew  whence  he  came,  or  anything  about 
him.  At  length  the  boy  was  missed  from 
his  usual  place  in  the  church.  At  this  time  a  man 
called  on  the  minister,  and  told  him  that  a  person, 
very  ill,  was  desirous  of  seeing  him,  but  added,  "  I 
am  ashamed  to  ask  you  to  go  so  far ;  yet  it  is  a 
child  of  mine,  and  he  refuses  to  have  any  one  but 
you.  He  is  altogether  an  extraordinary  boy,  and 
talks  a  great  deal  about  things  that  I  do  not  under 
stand." 

The  clergyman  went.    The  rain  poured  down  in 
torrents ;  and  he  had  six  miles  of  rugged  moun- 


VICTORY.  241 

tain  roads  to  pass.  On  arriving  where  lie  was 
directed,  he  found  a  wretched  cabin  ;  and  the  man 
he  had  seen  in  the  morning  was  waiting  at  the 
door.  He  was  shown  in,  and  found  the  inside  of 
the  hovel  as  miserable  as  the  outside.  In  a  corner, 
on  a  little  straw,  he  beheld  a  poor  creature, 
stretched  out,  whom  he  recognized  as  the  little  boy 
who  had  so  regularly  attended  his  church  !  As  he 
approached  the  bed,  the  child  raised  himself  up,  and, 
stretching  forth  his  arms,  said,  "His  own  right 
hand  hath  gotten  Him  the  victory !"  arid  immedi 
ately  expired. 


11 


242  VICTORY. 


%  Uttttrog  $lut. 

"  And  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return,  and  come  to  Zion 
with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads." 

HEEE  the  faded  flower  shall  freshen — 

Freshen,  never  more  to  fade  ; 
Where  the  shaded  sky  shall  brighten — 

Brighten,  never  more  to  shade : 
Where  the  sunblaze  never  scorches  ; 

Where  the  starbeams  cease  to  chill ; 
Where  no  tempest  stirs  the  echoes 
Of  the  wood,  the  wave,  the  hill ; 
Where  the  morn  shall  wake  in  gladness, 

And  the  noon  the  joy  prolong ; 
Where  the  daylight  dies  in  fragrance 
'Mid  the  burst  of  holy  song ; — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 
'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest. 

Where  no  shadow  shall  bewilder  ; 
Where  life's  vain  parade  is  o'er ; 


VICTORY. 


Where  the  sleep  of  sin  is  broken, 

And  the  dreamer  dreams  no  more  ; 
"Where  the  bond  is  never  severed, 

Partings,  claspings,  sob,  and  moan, 
Midnight  waking,  twilight  weeping, 

Heavy  noontide,  all  are  done  ; 
Where  the  child  hath  found  its  mother, 

Where  the  mother  finds  her  child  ; 
Where  dear  families  are  gather'd 

That  were  scatter'd  on  the  wild  ; — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 
'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest. 

Where  the  hidden  wonnd  is  healed ; 

Where  the  blighted  life  reblooms  ; 
Where  the  smitten  heart  the  freshness 

Of  its  buoyant  youth  resumes ; 
Where  the  love  that  here  we  lavish 

On  the  withering  leaves  of  time, 
Shall  have  fadeless  flowers  to  fix  on, 

In  an  ever  spring-bright  clime ; 
Where  we  find  the  joy  of  loving 

As  we  never  loved  before ; 
Loving  on,  unchilled,  unhindered, — 

Loving  once,  and  evermore  ; — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 
'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest. 


244  VICTOET. 

Where  a  blasted  world  shall  brighten 

Underneath  a  purer  sphere, 
And  a  softer,  gentler  sunshine 

Shed  its  healing  splendor  here : 
Where  earth's  barren  vales  shall  blossom, 

Putting  on  their  robe  of  green, 
And  a  purer,  fairer  Eden 

Be  where  only  wastes  have  been ; 
Where  a  King  in  kingly  glory, 

Such  as  earth  has  never  known, 
Shall  assume  the  righteous  sceptre, 

Claim  and  wear  the  holy  crown  ; — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 
'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest. 


VICTOET.  245 


fast  Ipmwts  0f  10|tt 

Monday,  the  twenty-fourth  of  Novem 
ber,  1572,  he  got  up  in  the  morning,  and 
partially  dressed  himself,  but  feeling  weak, 
he  lay  down  again.  They  asked  him  if  he 
was  in  pain?  "It  is  na  painful  pain,"  he 
answered,  "  but  such  a  one  as,  I  trust,  shall  put  an 
end  to  the  battle."  His  wife  sat  by  him  with  the 
Bible  open  on  her  knees.  He  desired  her  to  read 
the  fifteenth  chapter  of  the  first  of  Corinthians. 
He  thought  he  was  dying  as  she  finished  it.  "  Is 
not  that  a  beautiful  chapter  ?"  he  said ;  and  then 
added,  "Now,  for  the  last  time  I  commend  my 
spirit,  soul  and  body,  into  thy  hands,  O  Lord."  But 
the  crisis  passed  off  for  the  moment.  Towards 
evening  he  lay  still  for  several  hours,  and  at  ten 
o'clock  "  they  went  to  their  ordinary  prayer,  whilk 
was  the  longer,  because  they  thought  he  was  sleep 
ing."  "When  it  was  over  the  physician  asked  him 
if  he  had  heard  anything.  "  Aye,"  he  said,  "  I  wad 
to  God  that  ye  and  all  men  heard  as  I  have  heard, 


246  VICTORY. 

and  I  praise  God  for  that  heavenly  sound."  Sud 
denly  he  gave  a  long  sigh  and  sob,  and  cried  out, 
"  Now  it  is  come  I"  Then  Eichard  Bannatyne,  sit 
ting  down  before  him,  said,  "  Now,  sir,  the  time 
that  ye  have  long  called  for,  to  wit,  an  end  of  your 
battle,  is  come ;  and,  seeing  all  natural  power  now 
fails,  remember  the  comfortable  promise  which  oft- 
time  ye  have  shewn  to  us  of  our  Saviour  Christ ; 
and  that  we  may  understand  and  know  that  ye  hear 
us,  make  some  sign  ;"  and  so  he  lifted  up  his  hand  ; 
and  incontinent  thereafter,  "  rendered  up  the 
spirit,  and  sleepit  away  without  ony  pain."  In 
such  sacred  stillness,  the  strong  spirit  which  had  so 
long  battled  with  the  storm,  passed  away  to  God. 

WESTMINSTER   REVIEW. 


VICTORY. 


247 


EYOND  the  smiling  and  the  weeping, 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  waking  and  the  sleeping, 
Beyond  the  sewing  and  the  reaping, 
I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 

Sweet  home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come.   . 

Beyond  the  blooming  and  the  fading, 

I  shall  be  soon ; 

Beyond  the  shining  and  the  shading, 
Beyond  the  hoping  and  the  dreading, 

I  shall  be  soon. 

Love,  rest,  and  home ! 
Sweet  home ! 

Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

Beyond  the  rising  and  the  setting, 

I  shall  be  soon ; 
Beyond  the  calming  and  the  fretting, 


248 


VICTORY. 


Beyond  remembering  and  forgetting, 
I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home ! 

Sweet  home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

Beyond  the  parting  and  the  meeting, 

I  shall  be  soon ; 

Beyond  the  farewell  and  the  greeting, 
Beyond  the  pulse's  fever  beating, 

I  shall  be  soon. 

Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
Sweet  home ! 

Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

Beyond  the  frost-chain  and  the  fever, 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  rock-waste  and  the  river, 
Beyond  the  ever  and  the  never, 
I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 

S\veet  home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

EEV.  DE.  BONAE. 


VICTORY.  249 


E*  ITO  Sprits! 


AIL,  ye  blest  inhabitants  of  that  lovely  and 
peaceful  land  !  Hail,  ye  happy  spirits  of 
the  sainted  dead!  We  feel,  even  here 
upon  earth,  a  comfortable  earnest  of  your 
celestial  joys.  The  bright  landscape  of 
those  immortal  realms  lies  before  the  eyes  of  our 
faith  in  smiles  of  invitation.  We  are  cheered,  even 
on  these  low  grounds  of  sin  and  sorrow,  by  the 
dawn  of  an  eternal  morning,  and  we  have  a  desire 
to  depart  ;  yet,  "  all  the  days  of  our  appointed  time 
will  we  wait  till  our  change  come.  Thou  shall  call, 
and  we  will  answer  Thee." 

REV.  H.  HARBATJGH. 


11* 


Matthias.  Imixxortal    Joy. 

"  And  the  lot  fell  upon  Matthias." 

,HE  AMETHYST  is  the  precious  stone  of 
the  twelfth  foundation  of  the  Palace  of  the 
Redeemed,  where  it  is  engraven  with  the 
name  of  Matthias.  The  amethyst  is  one 
of  the  most  familiar  and  admired  of  gems 
from  its  wavelike  transparency,  and  its  color  of  a 
delicious  violet,  a  compound  of  blue  and  red. 
This  gem  was  called  achelamah,  from,  to  dream ; 
and  it  was  thought  that  those  who  wore  it  as  an 
amulet  were  blessed  with  happy  dreams  and  pro 
phetic  insight  into  futurity.  It  was  furthermore 
considered  as  a  preventive  of  inebriation,  and  of 
evil  thoughts; — a  purifier  of  the  brain,  and  an 
inspirer  of  graceful  wit  and  prudence  of  deport 
ment.  It  is,  however,  sufficiently  obvious  that 
the  excellences  attributed  to  this,  and  other  pre 
cious  stones,  are  either  purely  mythological,  or  the 
fabulous  imaginings  of  grave  triflers  in  science. 


IMMORTAL   JOY. 


251 


After  much  deliberation,  no  more  suitable  simili 
tude  suggests  itself  for  this  gem  than  IMMORTAL 
JOY,  which  is   deduced  from   its   color   alone,  as 
neither  the  history  of  Issachar  nor  that  of  Mat 
thias,  furnishes   any   available   clue,   and    ancient 
superstition   is  a  sorry  guidance.      Purple   is   an 
imperial  color  ;  the  representative  hue  also  of  youth 
and  immortality;    and    thus  the    amethyst    may 
at    once  remind    us    of  princely  dignity   and   of 
perpetual  vigor.     In  completing  this  incomparable 
structure,   the    Heavenly    foundation,   it    appears 
appropriate   that  the   Jacinth   of  Victory   should 
be  succeeded  by  the  Amethyst  of  Immortal  Joy. 
With  regard  to  the  general  propriety  of  the  allu 
sive  interpretations  here   assigned   to   the   twelve 
gems  of  the   City  Walls,  the   better,  and  indeed 
the  only  true  way  to  ascertain  it,  will  be  to  refer 
to  the  histories  of  the  twelve  tribes,  whose  names 
were  by  them  memorialized,  and  also  to  pursue 
the  investigation   through  those  of   the  Apostles. 
By  us,  however,  they  may  be  more  prof;: ably  con 
templated  as  types  of  various  divine  graces  and 

gifts. 

Of  Saint  Matthias,  the  last  chosen  of  the  Apos 
tles,  the  Evangelists  are  silent  until  the  period  of 
election  for  one  to  fill  the  vacated  office  of  Judas 


IMMORTAL   JOT. 

Iscariot.  "  And  the  lot  fell  upon  Matthias,"  who 
was  thereupon  endowed  with  the  powers  of  an 
apostle.  His  course  was  marked  with  wonderful 
success,  and  through  his  ministry  multitudes  were 
induced  to  embrace  Christianity.  He,  at  length, 
obtained  Immortal  Joy  through  the  violence  of  his 
foes.  May  the  lot  of  Eternal  Life  fall  upon  each  of 
us  as  did  the  lot  of  apostleship  upon  Matthias! 
But  then,  like  him,  we  must  be  constant  followers 
of  the  Saviour,  else  we  cannot  hope  for  His  gra 
cious  notice  or  approbation. 

The  hope  of  Immortality  !  how  does  it  exhila 
rate  our  bosoms  amid  the  depressive  chills  of  this 
Yalley !  how  beautiful  a  light  does  its  purple 
flush  shed  athwart  our  graveward  path  !  Faith  is 
the  true  alchemist  who  alone  is  able  to  transmute 
the  sorrows  of  the  heart  into  the  rich  golden  ore 
of  hope.  Earthly  hopes  perish — earthly  friend 
ships  wither — earthly  joys  fade  away,  but  the 
beatitudes  of  the  better  country  are  perennial. 
"Life  and  immortality  are  brought  to  light  by 
the  Gospel."  Through  it  the  pangs  of  death  are 
assuaged,  and  a  bridge  spanned  across  the  turbu 
lent  billows  of  Jordan.  The  ambrosial  fruits  of 
Paradise  and  its  nectarine  draughts  are  immortal ; 
and,  sweeter  than  all,  the  loves  and  unions  of 


IMMORTAL    JOT. 

Heaven  are  immortal !  From  the  words  of  our 
Saviour  we  are  led  to  infer  that  mere  earthly 
ties  shall,  as  such,  be  abolished  ;  but  those  are 
unions  according  to  the  flesh  only.  Pure,  spiritual 
love  can  never  die,  it  is  a  flower  amaranthine. 
We  are  not  forbidden  to  believe,  that,  while  the 
affection  of  the  saved  toward  each  other  will  be 
universal  and  mutual,  the  measure  will  not,  in  all 
cases,  be  equal  in  intensity.  There,  as  on  earth, 
preferences  will  exist.  Surely,  the  endeared  com 
panions  who  trode  with  us  the  thorny  paths,  of 
earth,  who  soothed  us  amid  its  vicissitudes,  and 
bore  with  us  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  will 
be  dearest  still !  How  delightful  the  prospect  of 
renewed  intercourse  with  them !  It  will  be  the 
chief  subordinate  felicity  of  heaven.  My  relatives, 
my  friends,  shall  I  not  eagerly  seek  ye  out  amid 
even  a  myriad  of  shining  ones !  even  among  the 
"  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  ?" 

No  more  bitter  partings  there  ;  never,  through 
those  gates  of  glistening  pearl,  shall  be  borne 
forth  the  shrouded  form  beloved  no  more,  to  re 
turn  !  Never  through  those  towering  archways 
shall  be  journeyings  forth  to  seek  a  continuing 
city ; — never  shall  those  crystal  pavements  be 
sullied  with  the  tear-stain — never,  never :  the 


254:  IMMORTAL   JOY. 

former  things  are  forever  passed  away.  Life's 
labor  done,  the  weary  toiler  frequents  no  more 
the  busy  mart ;  for  him  there  henceforth  remains 
an  all-sufficing  repose.  Arnauld,  when  Nicole,  his 
fellow-laborer  in  writing,  wished  for  rest,  ex 
claimed,  "  Kest !  will  you  not  have  all  eternity  to 
rest  in  ?"  But  immortal  joy  will  not  be  experi 
enced  alone  by  the  Eedeemed,  for  Christ  shall 
rejoice  in  the  finished  work  of  His  hands,  and  God 
shall  rejoice  in  the  honors  of  His  Well-Beloved 
Son.  "  He  will  joy  over  thee  with  singing, 

"  There  shall  be  no  more  Death." 

In  the  present  imperfect  state  of  existence,  this 
immunity  would  scarcely,  perhaps,  be  esteemed 
a  blessing ;  the  decrepitudes  of  age,  the  agonies 
of  bereavement,  the  languors  of  disease,  often 
cause  the  grim  foe  to  be  welcomed  as  a  benefactor. 
But  "  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain." 
What !  shall  this  head  no  more  throb  with  anguish  ? 
shall  this  frame  no  more  burn  with  fever  ?  shall 
these  limbs  no  more  quiver  in  the  wild  tossings  of 
delirium  ?  Exempted  from  these  evils,  life  may, 
perchance,  be  a  valuable  boon.  But  neither  is 
this  all ;  "  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from 
their  eyes !"  Here  is  the  grand  climax.  Oh,  my 
soul !  will  thy  last  tear  be  dried,  thy  days  of 


IMMORTAL   JOY.  255 

mourning  really  be  ended?  Mark  the  tender 
condescension  of  our  Heavenly  Father.  To  efface 
those  signs  of  woe,"  no  angel  is  deputed,  neither 
Gabriel  nor  Raphael  is  commissioned ;  He  does 
it  Himself;  with  His  own  soothing  and  loving 
touch  He  restores  smiles  and  bloom  to  the  down 
cast  and  grief-furrowed  countenance.  ~No  more 
Death  !  No  more  Pain !  No  more  Grief  !  Rest 
my  soul,  rest  in  thy  goodly  heritage,  rest  in  God's 
love  to  theeward. 

Such  transcendent  hopes  should  produce  a  com 
posure  bold  to  endure  the  brunt  of  every  earthly 
ill,  and  which  shall  smile  undismayed  amid  the 
tumult  and  chaos  of  a  dissolving  universe.  Thou, 
who  dwellest  in  Immortality  Divine !  grant  us  to 
know  Thee,  whom  to  know  is  Life  Eternal ! 

A.  B.  Q. 


256 


DkfMOKTAL  JOY. 


f  rob  far 


)HEKE  are   bright  homes  'mid  bowers  of 

deathless  glory, 
There  are  blue  skies  o'erbending  them  in 

love  ; 
Sweet  winds  that  never  sighed  round  ruins 

hoary, 

Or  sung  the  Autumn  requiem  of  the  grove. 
There  are  fair  flowers  by  crystal  waters  springing, 

That  never  bore  the  semblance  of  decay, 
On  the  soft  air  their  perfumed  incense  flinging 
In  a  land  far  away. 

There  on  the  mountain  tops,  the  day  declining 
Hath  never  caused  a  twilight  shade  to  rest, 

Each  height  an  altar  to  Jehovah,  shining 

With  sun-like  brightness  o'er  the  valleys  blest. 

And  there  are  dwellers  in  those  scenes  of  gladness, 
O'er  whose  pure  being,  Death  can  have  no  sway, 

Whose  voices  utter  not  a  note  of  sadness 
In  a  land  far  away. 


IMMORTAL   JOT.  257 

Cherub,  and  Seraphim  of  glory,  bending 
In  holy  raptures  at  a  Throne  of  Light : — 

Angels  and  Saints  their  songs  of  triumph  blending, 
These  are  the  dwellers  in  that  region  bright. 

And  some  have  walked  with  us  the  path  of  sor 


row 


And  felt  the  storms  of  many  a  wintry  day ; 
But  oh,  they  wakened  to  a  glorious  Morrow, 
In  a  land  far  away  1 

And  shall  we  weep  for  those  to  joy  departed  ? 
Or  should  we  mourn  that  they  shall  grieve  no 

more? 
Sick  as  we  are,  and  sad,  and  weary-hearted, 

Shall  we  recall  them  from  that  blessed  shore  ? 
See  where  they  dwell — the  forms  we  loved  and 

cherished — 

From  Age,  dim-eyed,  with  hair  of  silver  grey, 
To  the  fair  babe  that  like  a  blossom  perished — 
In  a  land  far  away. 

Oh,  best  and  dearest,  ever-gentle  mother, 
Who  soothed  me  in  thy  tender  arms  to  rest ; 

Stilling  the  cries  that  would  have  vexed  another. 
By  folding  me  in  love  upon  thy  breast ! 

Green  o'er  thy  grave,  for  years,  the  long  grass, 
Bighing, 


258  IMMORTAL  JOY. 

Hath  seemed  to  mourn  above  thy  mouldering 

clay;  oi*T 

But  well  I  know  thy  spirit  dwells  undying, 
In  a  land  far  away  ! 

And  He,  whose  brightness  suns  and  stars  are  veil 
ing, 
Whose  Form,  once  seen,  would  blind  our  mortal 

eyes ; 
With  Him,  who  bore  unmoved,  the  scoffer's  railing, 

And  died  to  give  us  entrance  to  the  skies : — 
Father,  and  Son,  and  ever-blessed  Spirit, 

There,  by  their  presence,  make  eternal  day  I 
Oh !  glorious  are  the  homes  the  good  inherit, 
In  a  land  far  away. 


IMMORTAL  JOT. 


259 


|rwttt  Springs  anfc  fute  102. 

)HE  sufferings  of  the  just  may  well  be 
likened  to'  fleeting  shadows  or  passing 
dreams.  As  soon  as  the  bright  morning  of 
eternity  begins  to  dawn,  the  shades  of  mor 
tality  are  dissipated  forever,  and  they  for 
get  at  once  in  the  glorious  light  of  God's  Majesty, 
the  tribulation  that  endures  but  for  a  night.  The 
unspeakable  joys  of  which  they  now  partake  so 
absorb  their  souls  that  there  is  no  room  left  for  sor 
row  or  sufferings.  And  if  their  past  trials  are  even 
remembered  by  them,  it  is  but  to  swell  their  harps 
with  fresh  rapture,  and  to  tune  their  voices  to 
louder  and  sweeter  anthems  in  the  praise  of  Him, 
who  has  given  them  in  exchange  for  their  suffer 
ings  endless  joy— in  exchange  for  the  cross  a  crown 
of  unfading  glory. 


TMMOBTAL   JOT. 


"  There  is  a  River,  the  streams  whereof  shall  make  glad  the  City 
of  God."— Ps.  xlvi.  4. 


HERE  is  a  beauteous  River 

In  the  city  of  our  God, 
With  margins  of  perpetual  green 

By  angel  footsteps  trod. 
It  beareth  faint  resemblance 

To  the  rivers  of  the  earth, 
For  the  lovely  things  around  it 

Alike  have  Heavenly  birth. 

No  stars  upon  its  bosom 

Reflect  the  gems  of  night — 
No  showery  clouds  are  mirrored 

Upon  its  surface  bright. 
"No  lightning  makes  its  water 

Like  liquid  fire  to  shine, 
Nor  darkness  veils  its  beauties 

In  the  glorious  day's  decline. 


IMMORTAL  JOT.  261 

All-joyous,  but  serenely, 

Doth  the  crystal  Kiver  glide 
Whose  visitants  are  seraphs 

And  spirits  sanctified. 
No  shadows  o'er  it  hover 

But  of  song-enchanted  trees, 
That  wave  with  sweet  rejoicing 

To  the  music-loving  breeze. 

No  faded  leaf  or  blossom 

All  mournful  floateth  by ; 
Each  radiant  flower  that  laveth, 

Hath  bloom  that  ne'er  shall  die. 
And  when  love-ransomed  children 

Come  hither  from  the  earth, 
Immortal  wreaths  are  gather'd, 

New  buds  have  instant  birth. 

Oh,  fair  and  crystal  River ! 

Far  dearer  things  than  they, 
Have  been  mirrored  on  thy  bosom. 

For  many  a  glorious  day  ! 
My  mother's  robe  of  lightness, 

In  many  an  airy  fold ; 
Her  face  of  saintly  beauty, 

Her  victor-crown  of  gold  ! 


262  IMMORTAL  JOT. 

Form  after  form  I  cherished, 

Methinks  I  now  can  trace, 
Come  thronging  to  thy  margin 

"With  high  celestial  grace. 
Oh,  Kiver !  lovely  Kiver, 

In  the  City  of  our  God ! 
Shall  /,  amid  thy  bowery  homes, 

E'er  make  my  blest  abode  ? 

MRS.  E.  H.  EVANS. 


IMMORTAL   JOY.  263 


§1*5**%  fetttrj. 

O  much  as  moments  are  exceeded  by  eter 
nity,  and  the  sighing  of  a  man  by  the  joys 
of  an  angel,  and  a  salutary  frown  by  the 
light  of  God's  countenance,  a  few  frowns  by 
the  infinite  and  eternal  halfelujahs,  so  much 
are  the  sorrows  of  the  godly  to  be  undervalued  in 
respect  to  what  is  deposited  for  them  in  the  trea 
sures  of  eternity.  Their  sorrows  can  die,  but  so 
cannot  their  joys.  And,  if  the  blessed  martyrs  and 
confessors  were  asked  concerning  their  past  suffer 
ings,  and  their  present  rest,  and  the  joys  of  their 
certain  expectations,  you  should  hear  them  glory  in 
nothing,  but  in  the  mercies  of  God,  and  in  the  cross 
of  the  Lord  Jesus.  Every  chain  is  a  ray  of  light, 
and  every  prison  is  a  palace,  and  every  loss  is  the 
purchase  of  a  kingdom,  and  every  affront  in  the 
cause  of  God  is  an  eternal  honor,  and  every  day  of 
sorrow  is  a  thousand  years  of  comfort,  multiplied 
with  a  never-ceasing  numeration ;  days  without 
nights,  joys  without  sorrows,  sanctity  without  sin, 


264:  IMMOETAL  JOT. 

charity  without  stain,  possession  without  fear, 
society  without  envying,  communication  of  joys 
without  lessening ;  and  they  shall  dwell  in  a  blessed 
country,  where  an  enemy  never  entered,  and  from 
whence  a  friend  never  went  away. 

JEEEMY  TAYLOR. 


IMMORTAL   JOY.  205 


'frf  me  gjof,  f0r  ijr*  jjpim 

ET  me  go,  the  day  is  breaking, 

Earthly  scenes  are  fading  fast ; 
Loves  that  were  my  heart  awaking, 

Hopes  and  fears  are  with  the  past. 
Earthly  visions  now  are  darkling, 

And  the  city's  golden  glow, 
Gleams  before  me,  pure  and  sparkling, 

In  the  distance  ; — let  me  go  ! 

Angel  hosts  resplendent  shining, 
Wait  me  at  the  river's  side, 

And  my  eager  heart  is  pining, 
But  to  meet  them  on  the  tide. 

I  can  see  the  life-founts  gushing — 


I  can  hear  their  silvery 
Joys,  a  countless  throng,  are  rushing 
O'er  my  spirit ; — let  me  go  ! 

He,  the  wounded,  the  forsaken,  • 
In  the  death-hour  sore  dismay'd, 

All  my  grief  and  fear  has  taken, 
All  my  debt  of  sin  has  paid. 
12 


266  IMMORTAL    JOY. 

I  can  see  His  God-like  brightness — 
Through  the  form  He  wore  below, 

On  a  throne  of  dazzling  whiteness — 
And  He  calls  me  ; — let  me  go ! 

Friends,  the  early-loved,  the  cherish'd, 

Vanished  from  our  paths  like  dew, 
"With  the  mortal  have  not  perish'd — 

I  behold  them  pure  and  true  ; 
Lovelier  in  that  far  dominion, 

Fairer  in  their  robes  of  snow, 
And  they  wait  with  drooping  pinion, 

To  enfold  me  ; — let  me  go  ! 

Lay  me  gently  on  my  pillow, 

Weary  are  my  thorn-pierced  feet ; 
Christ  has  calmed  the  boisterous  billow, 

And  the  rest  beyond  is  sweet. 
Could  ye  share  the  glorious  vision, 

Ye  would  not  detain  me  so ; — 
Now  the  homeward  gales  Elysian 

Woo  my  spirit ; — let  me  go  ! 


IMMOKTAL   JOT.  267 


"»  all  Mil  Ktttt 

)E  who  live  in  hope,  we  who  believe  in 
God  and  trust  that  Christ  suffered  for 
us  and  rose  again;  we  who  abide  in 
Christ,  and  arise  again  by  Him  and  in 
Him,  why  should  we  ourselves  be  un 
willing  to  depart  from  out  of  the  world,  or  why 
should  we  lament  and  sorrow  for  those  among  us 
who  are  departed  ?  Christ  himself,  our  Lord  and 
God,  exhorts  us,  and  he  says :  "  I  am  the  resurrec 
tion  and  the  life ;  whosoever  belie veth  in  me 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live ;  and  he 
that  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  see 
death  /"  Why  hasten  we  not  to  see  our  country, 
to  salute  our  parents  ?  There  a  vast  multitude  of 
them  that  are  dear  to  us,  await  our  arrival,  a  mul 
titude  of  parents,  brethren,  and  children,  who  are 
now  secure  of  their  own  salvation,  and  anxious 
only  about  ours.  What  a  mutual  joy  it  will  be 
for  them  and  us,  when  we  come  into  their  presence 
and  receive  their  embrace  ! 

CYPRIAN. 


268  IMMORTAL   JOY. 


9  *  t  V  *  'i  1  •'  1    $  m  p  I  2  0 . 

URSUITS  are  various  here,  suiting  all  tastes: 
Though  holy  all  and  glorifying  God. 
Observe     yon     band     pursue    the    sylvan 

stream  1 
Mounting  among  the   cliffs — they  pull  the 

flower, 

Springing  as  soon  as  pulled  ;  and  marvelling,  pry 
Into  its  veins,  and  circulating  blood, 
And  wondrous  mimicry  of -higher  life  ; 
Admire  its  colors,  fragrance,  gentle  shape  ; 
And  thence  admire  the  God  that  made  it  so — 
So  simple  complex,  and  so  beautiful. 
Behold  yon  other  band,  in  airy  robes 
Of  bliss — they  weave  the  sacred  bower  of  rose 
And  myrtle  shade,  and  shadowy  verdant  bay, 
And  laurel,  towering  high  ;  and  round  their  song, 
The  pink  and  lily  bring,  and  amaranth  ; 
Narcissus  sweet,  and  jessamine  ;  and  bring 
The  clustering  vine,  stooping  with  flower  and  fruit ; 
The  peach  and  orange,  and  the  sparkling  stream, 


IMMORTAL   JOT.  269 

Warbling  with  nectar  to  their  lips  unasked ; 
And  talk  the  while  of  everlasting  love. 

•x-  *  *  *  * 

Behold  that  other  band,  half  lifted  up 
Between  the  hill  and  dale,  reclined  beneath 
The  shadow  of  impending  rocks ;  'mong  streams, 
And  thundering  waterfalls,  and  waving  boughs, 
That  band  of  countenance  sublime  and  sweet, 
Whose  eye  with  piercing  intellectual  ray, 
Now  beams  severe,  or  now  bewildered  seems ; 
Left  rolling  wild,  or  fixed  in  idle  gaze  ; 
While  Fancy  and  the  soul  are  far  from  home — 
These  hold  the  pencil — art  divine !  and  throw 
Before  the  eye  remembered  scenes  of  love ; 
Each  picturing  to  each  the  hills,  and  skies, 
And  treasured  glories  of  the  world  he  left ; 
Or  gazing  on  the  scenery  of  heaven, 
They  dip  their  hand  in  color's  native  well. 
And  on  the  everlasting  canvas,  dash 
Figures  of  glory,  imagery  divine, 
With  grace  and  grandeur  in  perfection  knit. 

*  •*  *  *  * 

Nor  now  among  the  choral  harps,  in  this 
The  native  clime  of  song,  are  those  unknown. 
With  higher  note  ascending,  who,  below, 
In  holy  ardor,  aimed  at  lofty  strains. 


270  IMMORTAL   JOY. 

True  fame  is  never  lost ;  many,  whose  names 
Were  honored  much  on  Earth,  are  famous  here 
For  poetry,  and  with  archangel  harps, 
Hold  no  unequal  rivalry  in  song ; 
Leading  the  choirs  of  heaven,  in  numbers  high, 
In  numbers  ever  sweet  and  ever  new. 
Behold  them  yonder,  where  the  river  pure 
Flows  warbling  down  before  the  throne  of  God, 
And  shading,  on  each  side,  the  tree  of  life, 
Spreads  its  unfading  boughs !  see  how  they  shine 
In  garments  white,  quaffing  deep  draughts  of  love ; 
And,  harping  on  their  harps,  new  harmonies, 
Preparing  for  the  ear  of  God,  Most  High ! 

POLLOK'S  "  COUESE  OF  TIME." 


IMMORTAL   JOY.  271 


0f 

:)HAT  I  had  been  told  by  my  conductor, 
I  found  good  in  a  few  moments ;  for  I 
was  presently  translated  into  the  glorious 
mansions  of  the  blessed  ;  and  saw  such 
things  as  it  is  impossible  to  represent, 
and  heard  that  ravishing,  melodious  harmony  that  I 
can  never  utter  ;  well,  therefore,  might  the  beloved 
apostle  St.  John  tell  us  in  his  epistle,  "  Now  are  we 
the  sons  of  God ;  and  it  does  not  yet  appear  what 
we  shall  be !"  Whoever  has  not  seen  that  glory, 
can  speak  but  very  imperfectly  of  it;  and  they 
that  have,  cannot  tell  the  thousandth  part  of  what 

it  is. 

When  I  was  first  brought  near  this  glorious 
palace,  I  saw  innumerable  hosts  of  bright  attend 
ants,  who  welcomed  me  into  that  blissful  seat  of 
happiness,  having  in  all  their  countenances  an  air 
of  perfect  joy,  and  of  the  highest  satisfaction. 
And  there  I  saw  that  perfect  and  unapproachable 
light  that  assimilates  all  things  into  its  own  nature ; 


272  IMMOETAL   JOT. 

for  even  the  souls  of  the  glorified  saints  are  trans 
parent  and  diaphanous.  Neither  are  they  enlight 
ened  by  the  sun,  or  any  created  luminaries  ;  but  all 
that  light  that  flows  with  so  much  transparent 
brightness  throughout  those  heavenly  mansions,  is 
nothing  else  but  emanations  of  the  divine  glory,  in 
comparison  of  which  the  light  of  the  sun  is  but 
darkness  ;  and  all  the  lustre  of  the  most  sparkling 
diamonds,  the  fire  of  carbuncles,  sapphires,  and 
rubies,  and  the  orient  brightness  of  the  richest 
pearls,  are  but  dead  coals  in  comparison  to  its 
glory ;  and  therefore  called  "  The  throne  of  the  glory 
of  God,"  wherein  the  radiant  lustre  of  the  Divine 
Majesty  is  revealed  in  the  most  illustrious  manner. 
"  It  is  the  love  of  God,  the  ever-blessed  God, 
my  Epenetus,"  *  said  Junius,  "  that  gives  us  this 
admission  into  heaven ;  heaven  is  the  bright  seat  of 
so  much  happiness,  that  we  here  scarcely  count  it 
amongst  our  joys  that  heaven  is  the  seat  of  them. 
And  here  the  excellency  of  the  things  that  we  pos 
sess  does  as  much  disappoint  our  expectations,  as, 
in  fruitions  in  the  wTorld  below,  the  emptiness  is 
wont  to  do.  For  you  have  already  heard  the  apos 
tle  tell  us,  '  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 

*  Epenetus  meets  in  the  Regions  of  Glory,  his   friend  Junius, 
recently  deceased,  and  also  his  mother. 


IMMORTAL  JOT.  273 

hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive 
the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that 
love  him.'  And  now,  my  Epenetus,  our  experience 
tells  us  so ;  those  pure  refined  delights  that  we 
enjoy,  not  only  stoop  not  unto  sense  but  are  sub 
lime  enough  even  to  transcend  imagination.  For 
whatsoever  our  fancy  formed  below,  as  the  most 
perfect  ideas  and  most  abstracted  notions  of  com 
plete  happiness,  our  own  more  happy  experience  of 
greater,  plainly  evince,  come  short  of  what  we  find. 
Heaven  is  a  soil,  whose  fruitfulness  is  so  confined  to 
joy,  that  even  our  disappointments  and  mistakes, 
when  in  the  world  below,  do  here  contribute  to  our 
happiness,  which  does  so  much  partake  of  His  im 
mensity,  whose  gift  it  is,  that  even  the  sacred 
oracles  themselves  give  but  a  negative  description 
of  it ;  and  does  not  only  remove  our  thoughts  from 
all  we  enjoyed  below  but  does  exalt  them  above 
whatever  we  could  fancy  there.  Xor  will  you 
wonder,  Epenetus,  that  it  should  be  so,  if  you  will 
but  consider,  that  here  our  faculties  are  not  only 
gratified  with  suitable  and  acceptable  objects,  but 
are  so  heightened  and  enlarged,  that  our  capacities 

are  both  increased  and  filled." 

The  noble  Junius  having  left  me,  I  straight  drew 
near  the  shining  form  that  stood  before  me,  who, 

12* 


274  IMMOETAL   JOY. 

compassed  round  with  rays  of  dazzling  lustre, 
appeared  extremely  glorious.  I  could  hardly 
behold  her  for  the  exceeding  brightness  of  her 
countenance,  or  else  it  seemed  to  me  so,  because  I 
looked  with  more  intenseness  on  her  than  on 
Elijah,  or  the  noble  Junius ;  but,  taking  it  for 
granted  it  was  my  mother,  I  thus  addressed  her : 
"  My  dearest  mother,  I  joy  to  see  you  clothed  in 
that  bright  robe  of  glory,  as  an  inhabitant  of  these 
blessed  realms  of  light  and  immortality." 

"  Dear  Epenetus,"  said  my  mother  to  me,  "  for 
what  I  am,  to  Him  that  is  on  the  throne,  and  to  the 
Lamb,  be  all  the  praise  and  glory ;  for  He  alone  it 
is  has  made  me  so.  This  robe  of  glory  which  you 
see  me  wear,  is  only  the  reflection  of  His  own 
bright  beams !  Ah,  Epenetus !  had  not  the  blessed, 
forever  blessed,  redeeming  Jesus,  first  clothed  me 
with  His  robe  of  Righteousness,  I  never  should  have 
worn  this  robe  of  glory.  I  do  not  ask  you, 
Epenetus,  how  you  thus  came  to  be  admitted  here ; 
I  have  had,  already  from  Elijah,  a  full  account  of 
that;  and  must  acknowledge  the  Divine  conde 
scension  has  been  exceeding  great  in  this  permis 
sion  for  which  eternal  praise  be  given  to  Him.  Ah, 
Epenetus !  through  how  many  dangers  does  Divine 
Grace  conduct  our  souls  to  glory  !  I  cannot  think, 


IMMORTAL   JOY. 


275 


but  with   the   most   admiring   thoughts    of   Love 
Divine,  how  near  I  once  was  to  eternal  ruin !     I 
once  was  poor,  and  blind,   and  naked;    cast  out 
unto  the  loathing  of  my  person,  and  lay  polluted  in 
my  filth  and  blood;  but  oh!  the  abundant  grace 
that  found  ine  in  that  wretched,  sad  condition,  and 
yet  to  me  made  it  a  time  of  love,  '  washed  me  from 
my  filthiness,  and    purged  me  from  my  sin!' 
once  was    nothing    else  but   darkness;    but,    oh, 
miraculous  and  happy  change  !  I  now  am  full  of 
light,  and  love,  and  joy :    I   once   was  poor   and 
miserable,  but  now  I  am  enriched   with   all  that 
heaven  can  give  or  I  receive :  I  once  was  naked 
and  exposed  to   shame,   but  now   I   am   adorned 
with  robes  of  light  and  glory :  I  once  was  under  sen 
tence  of  eternal  separation  from  the  Divine  Pres 
ence,  but  now  I  am  possessed  of  God,  my  only  life 
and  joy,  and  supreme  good,    ph,  how  transporting 
is  the   comparison  of  these  so  wide   and  contrary 
extremes !      And  oh,  how  pleasant  is  the  bright 
day  of  eternity,  after  a  night  so  dark  ar.;l  so  tem 
pestuous !     How  does  a  vivid  sense  of  tb;se  past 
evils  produce  a  far  more  lively  feeling  and  fruition 
of  my  happiness !     This  makes  the  everlasting  hal 
lelujahs,  that  I  sing  to  my  victorious  Deliverer, 
more  ravishing  and  more  harmonious." 

Bunyan'a  "  World  to  Come." 


276 


IMMOETAL  JOT. 


Artist's  Jtotoril  t0  ®imt 


"It  is  a  hard,  hard  struggle  to  think  of  resigning  my  beloved 
Art,  when  I  have  only  just  begun  to  see  its  beauties.  But  not  my 
will,  but  thine,  be  done,  0  Lord  !  I  humbly  say." 

"  Hamilton,  the  Young  Artist." 


L,  oh  things  of  Time  ! 
I  know  a  fairer  clime, 
Where  garlands  wither  not,  nor  tempests 

lower ; — 

Where  springs  are  ever  pure, 
Where  joys  for  aye  endure, 
And  where  the  spectre  Death  hath  no  more 
power. 

My  life  ebbs  out  apace, 

But  Thy  sustaining  grace, 
Buoys  me  above  the  languor  of  decay ; — 

Serene  I  bide  the  hour, 

When  by  Thy  mighty  power, 
I'll  soar  into  the  realms  of  endless  day. 

In  quest  of  nobler  spheres, 
Up  from  this  vale  of  tears, 


IMMOKTAL    JOY.  277 

I  poise  my  pinions  for  the  sounding  flight : — 

Haste,  then,  run  out  life- sands ! 

Haste  to  dissolve,  ye  bands ; 
That  bind  me  in  the  shades  of  nether  night. 

In  hoarse  harmonious  dirge, 

Life's  solemn  waters  surge 
Upon  the  beach  of  Time  with  warning  swell : 

I  hear  ye,  voices  deep — 

Ye  murmur  through  my  sleep, 
And  o'er  my  waking  moments  wield  your  spell ! 

The  preludes  of  the  skies, 

In  wondrous  melodies, 
Float  oft  upon  the  air  when  shut  the  flowers ; 

And  with  the  tones  profound, 

Comes  mingling  the  sweet  sound 
Of  voices  heard  of  yore  in  boyhood's  hours. 

Earth  lures  but  to  betray, 

I  thrust  its  toys  away, 
Lo,  waiting  Thy  glad  coming,  Son  of  God ! 

I  pine  for  thee,  dear  home, 

"When  wTill  the  summons  come 
That  frees  my  soul  exultant  from  this  clod? 

Oh,  hour  of  blest  release ! 
Oh,  hour  of  perfect  peace  ! 


278  IMMORTAL   JOY. 

When  this  heart  shall  cease  to  throb — these  eyes  to 
weep ; 

When  grief  and  pain  are  o'er, 

When  anguish  wounds  no  more, 
~Nor  the  spirit  needs  these  weary  vigils  keep. 

Aweary  is  this  life ; 

I,  fevered  in  its  strife, 
Do  thirst  to  drink  of  founts  that  gush  immortal ; 

Had  I  thy  wings,  thou  dove ! 

With  songs  of  fervid  love, 
I'd  plume  my  course  to  seek  the  golden  portal. 

My  worshipped  Art,  in  thee 

I  sought  felicity ! 
And  courted  glory  as  the  meed  of  toil ; 

1  reached  to  carve  my  name 

High  on  the  shaft  of  Fame, 
Nor  deemed  stern  Time  my  honors  could  despoil. 

Fancy's  deluded  child, 

Oft,  oft  in  dr earnings  wild, 
I've  dipped  my  pencil  in  each  rainbow  hue ; 

The  loveliest  colors  fade, 

By  proudest  genius  laid, 
As  fades  the  landscape  'heath  the  deepening  blue. 


IMMOETAL   JOY.  279 

Ah,  futile,  vain  endeavor ! 

This  heavenly  essence  never 
Can  rest  content  with  less  than  food  eternal ; 

Pictures  and  scenes  divine, 

Through  my  rapt  visions  shine, 
And  gleams  of  Art  supreme — of  skill  supernal. 

In  manhood's  flush,  I  die, 

While  summer  flowerets  lie 
Clustered  around  my  falt'ring  step  and  slow ; 

Yet  let  no  bitter  tear 

Be  shed  above  the  bier 
Of  one  who  then  shall  bliss  celestial  know. 

O  God,  my  succor,  stay ! 

Thy  will,  I  humbly  pray, 
Not  mine  be  done.     These  fluttering  pulses  calm : 

Ah,  gently  bow  Thine  ear, 

An  earnest  suppliant  hear, 
And  o'er  a  bruised  heart  pour  out  Thy  balm. 

Soul,  to  thy  rest  return ! 

The  Resurrection  morn 
Dawns  o'er  the  grave,  and  radiates  its  gloom ; — 

O  Flesh,  in  hope  rejoice! 

Until  th' archangel's  voice 

Awake  the  slumbering  dead,  and  burst  the  tomb ! 
AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GAKRETT. 


280  IMMOKTAL   JOT. 


fntuig   Cjrinus. 

S  we  entered  the  grand  edifice,  the  chimes 
were  ringing  joyously  the  closing  cadence 
of  a  lively  air ;  then,  pausing  a  moment  as 
if  to  gather  fresh  strength,  they  commenced 
St.  Michael's,  arid  never  had  that  truly 
Handelesque  melody  sounded  more  thrillingly 
sweet — it  seemed  a  strain  meet  for  angel  lips. 

With  their  silvery  sounds,  came  memories  of  one 
who  had  been  my  companion  the  last  time  I  had 
hearkened  to  those  Christmas  bells,  the  young 
artist-brother,  whose  eyes  the  slumber  of  the  grave 
now  forever  seals,  and  above  whose  pulseless  heart 
the  mound  presses  heavily  ;  and,  amid  the  festal  har 
monies  and  songs  which  burst' forth  from  the  organ- 
gallery,  seemed  mingling  echoes  of  that  undying 
anthem  in  which  he  was  bearing  part  before  the 
Throne  of  Jehovah,  whose  advent  in  human  form 
we  were  then  celebrating.  What  awakener  of  the 
soul  is  there  like  church  music  !  the  recurrence  of 
the  Sabbath  harmony  is  as  the  angel  who  came 


IMMOKTAL   JOY.  281 

down  at  certain  seasons  to  trouble  the  still  waters 
of  the  pool  Bethesda ;  for  how  often,  when  dead, 
dead  or  torpid  to  every  other  influence,  does  a  well- 
remembered  sacred  strain  arouse  the  soul  to  sacred 
action !  As  for  me,  under  its  sway  the  tide  of  years 
rushes  back,  and  amid  its  surgings,  many  and 
many  a  note  do  I  again  catch  from  voices  now  sing 
ing  the  angel's  song. 

But  the  bells !  the  bells !  than  their  exhilarating 
sweetness  nothing  can  be  more  cheering  and  inspi 
riting.  Little  marvel  is  it  that  the  wonderful 
Dreamer  represented  the  bells  of  the  City  as  ring 
ing  to  welcome  the  Pilgrims  as  they  entered  the 

Glorious  Gate. 

AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GARRETT. 


In  Jpruuram, 

VISIONS    IN    TWILIGHT. 

"  For  Memory  is  immortal." 

mortal  breathes  not  who  cannot  claim 


_x, 

affinity  with  denizens  of  other  and  mys 
terious  realms;  earth  contains  not  the 
being  who  is  not  bound  by  links  indissolu 
ble  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  spirit-world. 
memories  of  the  loved  and  severed!  oh, 
shadowy  mementoes  of  completed  terrestrial  exist 
ences  !  how  oft  do  you  steal  athwart  us,  saddening 
our  gayest  hours,  and  stifling  our  wildest  merri 
ment  !  In  vain  do  we  call  on  them  —  the  lost  ones 
—  at  morn,  at  noon-day,  in  the  hush  of  starry 
night  ;  in  vain  do  we  implore  them  for  a  token  of 
recognition  ;  they  answer  not  :  even  to  the  passion 
ate  pleadings  of  the  most  beloved,  mute,  mute,  are 
they  forever. 

Sitting  alone  amid  the  deepening  hues  of  twi 
light,  musing  with  many  a  tear  and  many  a  sigh 


VISIONS   IN   TWILIGHT.  283 

upon  bygone  scenes,  "busy,  meddling  memory," 
with  officious  complaisance,  draws  aside  a  sombre 
curtain,  and,  unveiling  a  dim  cavern,  beckons  forth 
a  shadowy  throng,  who,  as  they  defile  in  life-like 
review  before  us,  one  after  another  reveal  the 
familiar  lineaments  of  dear  ones  transplanted  to 
bloom  beyond  the  stars.  Not  in  the  gloomy  habili 
ments  of  the  charnel-house  do  they  appear,  but 
arrayed  as  in  the  buoyance  and  brilliancy  of  the 
best  hours  of  life,  ere  carping  care  had  gnawed  at 
the  heartstrings,  or  the  blights  of  disappointments 
had  dimmed  the  lustrous  eye  and  blanched  the 
cheek's  roses. 

Foremost  of  the  troop  come  dancing  on  to  the 
sweet  silver  music  of  their  own  glee,  the  playmates 
of  our  innocent  childhood.  The  little  brother 
bounds  by  with  a  shout,  eager  in  pursuit  of  a  gilded 
butterfly ;  the  baby-sister's  arms  again  encircle  our 
necks,  and  her  wealth  of  golden  curls  sweeps  over 
our  breasts,  while  in  -accents  of  infantile  sweetness 
she  essays  to  lisp  forth  her  love  and  trustfulness, 
and  we  are  oblivious  to  the  long,  long  years  that 
have  sped  since  that  young  brother  and  sister 
became  playmates  with  angels,  until  recalled 
to  the  realities  of  the  present  by  our  blinding 
tears. 


284  VISIONS   IN   TWILIGHT. 

The  departed  !  Next  advances  a  graceful  group 
of  youthful  forms,  the  chosen  companions  of  that 
halcyon  period  when  the  heart  revelled  in  sunny 
anticipations  of  hope  and  joy.  Many  of  these  were 
ardently  loved — how  varied  have  been  their  des 
tinies  !  One,  wearied  and  travel-stained  in  Time's 
journey,  laid  him  down  to  quiet  slumber  upon  the 
burning  sands  of  a  far-off  desert.  An  arrow  from 
the  quiver  of  the  destroying  angel  pierced  the 
bosom  of  another  while  wandering  amid  the  radiant 
glories  of  Italy.  A  third,  the  enthusiastic  son  of 
romance  and  song,  sought  the  classic  soil  of  Greece, 
only  to  win  for  himself  a  grave  among  the  melan 
choly  ruins  of  past  ages— wildly  the  bittern 
screams  his  dirge.  A  fourth  kept  tryste  with  death 
on  the  bosom  of  the  mighty  deep — o'er  his  sepul 
chre  the  billows  roar,  in  hoarse  concert,  a  requiem. 
In  an  hour  of  fancied  security,  destruction  bore 
down  upon  his  ship.  A  day  of  placid  beauty  had 
closed  in  glorious  sunset,  which  insensibly  melted 
into  that  stilly  sweetness,  wherein,  to  our  spiritual 
sense,  the  hymn  of  the  stars  is  distinctly  audible. 
At  the  customary  hour  the  passengers  retired  to 
their  berths,  and  were  soon  sunk  in  slumber,  many 
of  them  to  dream  of  dear  ones  at  home,  whom, 
alas !  they  were  never  to  greet  again  in  this  world. 


VISIONS    IN    TWILIGHT.  285 

Suddenly,  at  midnight,  a  tornado  burst  upon  them 
in  appalling  fury.  Shrouded  were  the  heavens  in 
blackness,  and  of  the  myriads  of  glittering  stars 
which  but  a  brief  hour  previous  had  gemmed  the 
sapphire  firmament,  not  a  solitary  one  was  now 
visible.  The  gallant  vessel  battled  desperately 
with  the  tempest,  but  in  vain;  dismantled,  and 
groaning  in  every  timber,  she  was  driven  impetu 
ously  on  the  frowning  rocks,  and  dashed  into 
atoms  ;  and  of  the  three  score  living  souls  who  but 
that  eve  had  trod  the  decks,  exulting  in  the  pro 
spect  of  a  speedy  arrival  in  the  desired  haven,  but 
two  or  three  gained  the  shore.  But  the  horrors  of 
death  have  no  power  to  conquer  the  immortal  prin 
ciple  glowing  within  us — no  power  to  quench  the 
light  of  the  spirit :  above  the  lashing  of  the  waves, 
the  hoarse  roars  of  the  tempest,  and  the  agonized 
shrieks  of  the  perishing  multitude,  a  manly  voice 
was  heard  singing  in  untremulous  tones  : 

"  Jesus,  Saviour  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll, 
While  the  tempest  still  is  high. 
Hide  me,  oh  !  my  Saviour,  hide ! 
Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past — 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide, 
Oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last !" 


286  VISIONS   IN   TWILIGHT. 

Could  there  be  more  perfect  personal  application 
of  that  unsurpassed  hymn,  or  a  more  sublime 
requiem  for  a  passing  soul  ?  A  vivid  flash  of  light 
ning  illumined  the  ocean  for  a  moment,  and  the 
singer  was  discovered  clinging  to  a  drifting  frag 
ment  of  the  wreck.  Thus,  calm  and  undismayed, 
the  poor  fellow  poured  forth  his  triumphant  death- 
chant,  until  his  voice  was  lost  amid  the  ingulfing 
billows,  and  his  freed  spirit,  soaring  over  the 
boundary  line  of  worlds,  caught  up  the  strain  that 
is  known  but  in  Paradise.  The  famed  death-scene 
of  Socrates,  so  much  lauded  as  a  model  of  heroism 
and  sublimity,  what  comparison  does  it  bear  to  a 
transit  like  this?  Angels,  doubtless,  beheld  the 
scene  with  admiration,  and  hailed  his  entrance  into 
the  Holy  City  with  glad  acclamations. 

These  beloved  ones  are  all  with  us  once  more ; 
and  yet  one  other  most  beloved  of  any,  the  tender 
bosom-friend,  the  sincere  sympathizer  in  all  our 
manifold  joys  and  griefs,  and  bound  to  our  hearts 
by  cords  of  affection  which  we  fondly  trusted  were 
unsunderable.  Nor,  indeed,  hoped  we  vainly,  for 
although  the  object  of  our  love  be  for  a  space 
removed  above  mortal  ken,  yet  is  his  cherished 
memory  hoarded  up  in  the  heart's  holiest  chamber, 
there  to  secretly  bloom  through  life's  darksome 


VISIONS    IN   TWILIGHT.  287 

winter  until  we  again  greet  him,  in  the  vigor  of 
celestial  youth  and  intellect,  in  that  blissful  clime 
where  his  harp  is  tuned  to  the  immortal  harmonies 
of  seraphs.  Ah,  beloved  !  where  thou  dwellest, 

"  Adieus  and  farewells  are  a  sound  unknown. 
May  I  but  meet  thee  on  that  peaceful  shore, 
The  parting  word  shall  pass  my  lips  no  more  !" 

The  departed  !  Here,  with  more  measured  tread, 
advance  the  associates  of  our  riper  years.  They 
are  but  few,  these  friends  of  the  period  when  the 
avenues  to  the  heart  began  to  be  choked  up  by  the 
rank  weeds  of  suspicion  and  worldly  prudence ;  yet 
these  few  were  well  tried  and  truly  prized.  How 
oft,  when  trembling  on  the  verge  of  error,  have 
their  wise  counsels  guided  us  aright ;  and  how 
often,  when  disquieted  by  grief,  and  dispirited  by 
misfortunes  and  heart-bickerings,  have  the  cordial 
grasps  of  their  hands  revived  us,  and  their  blessed 
words  of  encouragement  cheered  us  on  to  renewed 
exertion!  But  they  too,  have  passed  on,  and 
deeply  indeed,  do  we  feel  our  desolateness. 

Not  one  of  this  throng  departed  to  the  "pale 
realms  of  Shade  "  without  having  bequeathed  to  us 
memories — thrilling  reminiscences,  like  finger-posts 
planted  throughout  life's  journey.  Everything 


288 


VISIONS    IN    TWILIGHT. 


recalls  the  departed.  A  random  look — a  word — a 
tone,  is  often  mighty  to  overthrow  the  self-imposed 
stoicism  with  which  we  have  striven,  long  and  pain 
fully,  to  fortify  ourselves.  The  glimpse  of  a  tiny 
plumed  cap — the  carelessly  thrown  aside  plaything, 
may  suddenly  rend  apart  the  closing  wounds 
of  the  heart,  and  cause  it  to  overflow  with  irrepress 
ible  yearnings  for  the  cherub,  to  the  patterings  of 
whose  busy  feet,  and  the  melody  of  whose  frolic 
some  glee  we  may  never  never  hearken  more.  The 
pet  bird,  who,  missing  the  caressing  hand  of  its  ra 
diant  mistress,  the  hand  that  daily  ministered  to  its 
wants,  sits  brooding  in  silence  in  its  cage,  invokes  a 
poignant  memory  of  the  lost  girl.  The  erewhile 
consonant  flute  and  viol  hang  mute  upon  the  wall, 
and  never  more  shall  their  strains  thrill  to  rapture 
the  partial  ear  of  affection !  We  gaze  on  the  pic 
ture  until  the  canvas  seems  instinct  writh  life,  and 
once  more  we  are  beside  the  easel,  watching  the 
precious  work  as  it  grows  beneath  the  skillful  hand 
of  the  painter,  and  can  scarce  realize  that  that  hand 
is  now  resolving  into  dust. 

We  take  up  a  favorite  volume.  At  the  name  on 
the  fly-leaf,  tears  gush  out  afresh — it  is  that  of  one 
beloved.  The  vibration  of  a  chance  note  or  chord 
may  sweep  over  our  spirits  like  the  brush  of  an 


VISIONS    IN   TWILIGHT.  289 

angel  pinion,  and  awaken  the  remembrances  of  a 
thousand  incidents  and  scenes — scenes  of  com 
mingled  rapture  and  melancholy.  Whole  histories 
hang  on  a  familiar  strain,  and  the  arrows  and  mis 
fortunes  of  a  weary  pilgrimage  may  be  wept  over 
in  a  simple  melody.  And  the  flowers,  gentle 
monitors,  they  too,  in  their  bud,  and  bloom,  and 
withering,  remind  us  of  the  passed-away  beauty  of 
the  dear  ones  whose  grassy  beds  they  adorn. 

A  young  maiden  had  assiduously  watched  a 
whole  summer  through  for  the  flowering  of  a  favor 
ite  bush — it  was  the  Michaelmas  Daisy.  At  length 
the  blossoms  appeared,  delicate  lilac  stars,  trem 
bling  in  fragile  loveliness ;  but  she,  more  fair  than 
they,  lay  on  her  death-bed.  Some  of  the  earliest 
were  gathered  and  presented  to  her,  on  which  she 
affectionately  strove,  with  her  failing  strength,  to 
entwine  them  in  the  hair  of  the  giver,  who  bent 
over"  the  pillow.  Henceforth,  therefore,  that  bush 
is  a  hallowed  and  lovely  emblem  of  her  who  faded 
from  earth  in  her  opening  spring.  A  bush  of  the 
same  kind  now  grows  at  her  feet  in  Greenwood. 
Thus  it  is  that  our  memories,  our  hopes,  our  affec 
tions,  are  inseparably  linked  with  the  departed. 
Nor  would  we  have  it  otherwise.  On  all  things 
terrestrial  is  written,  "Passing  away,  passing 

13 


290  VISIONS    IN    TWILIGHT. 

away,"  and  we  trust  soon  to  rejoin  our  friends  in 
the  better  country,  to  part  never,  never  more.  In 
a  quiet  country  churchyard  in  Vermont  there  is  a 
monumental  inscription,  which,  in  its  simple  pathos, ' 
has  a  significant  beauty.  On  a  white  marble  spire 
is  sculptured  the  image  of  a  human  hand,  whose 
forefinger  points  upwards  to  the  words  "  Passed 
on."  Every  tombstone  should  thus  be  made  a 
preacher. 

The  departed  !  But  now  approach  others  of  a 
very  different  class  ;  those  who  have  done  us  cruel 
wrong ;  who  have  dogged  our  footsteps  with  bitter 
relentless  hate  through  every  path  of  life  ;  who  have 
driven  the  envenomed  sting  of  ingratitude  deep 
into  the  throbbing  bosom's  core;  who  have 
wounded  us  in  our  holiest  and  tenderest  feelings ; 
and  can  we,  nay,  ought  we,  to  forgive  them  !  They 
slowly  pass  with  drooping  forms  and  sad  imploring 
eyes  as  if  awaiting  our  fiat.  Yes,  by  the  sacred 
memories  of  the  happy  past,  and  as  we  ourselves 
hope  to  be  absolved  in  the  moment  of  our  imminent 
need,  do  we  heartily  forgive  them,  trusting  that 
they  have  already  found  mercy  at  the  High  Tri 
bunal. 

The  departed !  To  bring  the  subject  home ; — let 
us  seriously  consider  that  when  the  restless  wheels 


VISIONS   IN   TWILIGHT.  291 

of  time  shall  have  rolled  on  for  a  few  more  suns, 
we  ourselves  shall  be  of  the  silent  multitude. 
Thought  portentous  and  solemn,  thought  fearful  yet 
sublime.  Silence  shall  seal  our  lips,  and  darkness 
veil  our  eyelids.  The  slumber  of  the  grave  shall 
rest  upon  us,  and  the  pulses  of  these  anxiously 
beating  hearts  be  stilled  forever.  Storms  shall 
howl,  and  tempests  riot  furiously  above  our  narrow 
dwellings,  and  coming  generations  trample  heed 
lessly  above  our  senseless  ashes.  The  song— the 
revel—the  dance,  shall  rush  on  thoughtlessly  as 
ever,  and  we  be  forgotten.  But  what  reck  we  if 
safely  sheltered?  No,  brothers,  fellow-wayfarers ! 
we  shrink  not  f .  om  the  inevitable  doom,  for  having 
Him  for  our  refuge,  sweet,  peacefully  sweet  shall 
be  that  dreamless  slumber,  until  broken  by  the 
high  swelling  Trump  of  the  Archangel  summoning 
quick  and  dead  to  judgment,  There  is  a  rare,  sub 
limity  in  the  dying  words  of  the  Eev.  John  Newton  : 
"  Hereafter,  I  hope,  when  I  shut  my  eyes  on  the 
things  of  time,  I  shall  open  them  in  a  better  world." 
Until  that  Great  Day,  when  we,  partakers,  God 
grant,  in  the  saint's  resurrection,  shall  burst  joy 
fully  the  grave-clothes  which  bind  us,  and  shaking 
off  the  dust  and  mould  of  the  sepulchre,  soar  into  a 
purer  and  brighter  existence — the  grave  shall  be  a 


292  VISIONS   IN   TWILIGHT. 

welcome  refuge  for  the  parched,  weary  pilgrim  o'er 
Time's  sands — a  grateful  resting-place  for  worn-out 
mortality. 

"  Fearful  is  the  Grave : 
Cold  winds  round  it  knelling, 
Misty  showers  swelling, 
Grief  and  terror  make  their  dwelling 
In  the  silent  Grave. 

Lovely  is  the  Grave  : 
Soft  doth  that  stillness  call, 
Cooler  the  shadows  fall, 
Deepest  Peace  is  whispering  all 

In  the  quiet  Grave. 

Dismal  is  the  Grave : 
Irksome  is  that  narrow  wall ; 
Its  breadth,  and  length,  and  depth,  and  height, 
Just  seven  paces  bound  them  all. 

Dismal  is  the  Grave. 

Lovely  is  the  Grave : 
A  sweet  defence  its  narrowness, 
From  the  ever-wearying  press, 
From  the  juggling  pageant  proud, 
From  the  fools  in  motley  crowd, 
Shields  us  well  that  narrow  shroud. 

Lovely  is  the  Grave. 

Dismal  is  the  Grave : 
Its  darkness  blacker  than  the  night, 
Through  which  no  sunbeam  glances  bright, 


VISIONS   IN   TWILIGHT.  293 

Not  a  star  may  ever  gleam, 

Or  the  softer  moonlight  stream ; 

Dark  and  dreadful  is  the  Grave. 

Lovely  is  the  Grave : 
Its  shadow  flinging 

O'er  the  weak  wanderer,  and  refreshment  bringing ; 
While  its  cool  breast 
Lulls  the  hot,  weary  pilgrim  to  his  rest. 
Lovely  is  the  Grave. 

Fearful  is  the  Grave : 
Rain  is  rushing,  thunder  growling, 
Driving  hail,  and  winds  are  howling, 

Round  the  storm-lashed  Grave. 

Lovely  is  the  Grave : 

O'er  the  turf  d  hillock  spring  winds  blowing, 
Sweet  at  its  foot  the  violets  growing, 
And  on  it  blooms  Forget-me-not ; 
There  falls  the  moon's  pale  beam, 
Hesper's  cold  rays,  and  morning's  rosy  gleam, 
While  Echo's  half-heard  note 
And  plaintive  wailings  float 
Around  the  grass-grown  spot. 

Lovely  is  the  Grave. 

Lonely  is  the  Grave : 
There  all  living  sounds  are  mute, 
There  is  heard  no  wanderer's  foot, 
Joyous  greetings  never  come 
To  visit  that  eternal  gloom — 

Oh !  how  lonely  is  the  Grave ! 


294:  VISIONS   IN   TWILIGHT. 

Aye !  is  the  Grave  so  lonely  ? 
True,  Joy's  wild  revel  only, 
And  Folly's  laughing  glance, 
And  Riot's  noisy  dance, 

They  visit  not  the  Grave ; 
But  the  life-wearied  Sage,  and  Sorrow's  child, 
The  Son  of  Song,  will  wander  mild 
Beside  the  quiet  grassy  heap, 
And  muse  upon  its  secrets  deep. 

Not  lonely  is  the  Grave. 

Senseless  is  the  Grave  : 
Deaf  and  speechless,  numbed  and  cold, 
Clothed  alone  in  darksome  mould, 
Hope's  glance  of  light, 
And  Fancy's  visions  bright 
And  Love's  delight, 
Lost  are  they  all  within  the  senseless  Grave. 

Fearful,  fearful  is  the  Grave ! 

Lovely  is  the  Grave  : 
All  the  discord,  all  the  strife, 
All  the  ceaseless  feuds  of  life, 
Sleep  in  the  quiet  Grave. 
Hush'd  is  the  battle's  roar, 
The  fire's  rage  is  o'er, 
The  wild  volcano  smokes  no  more — 
Deep  peace  is  promised  in  the  lasting  Grave. 

Lovely,  lovely  is  the  Grave !"  * 

*  This  wildly  beautiful  poem  is  translated  from  the  German  of 
Rosegarten,  by  whom  I  know  not.  It  is  to  be  regretted,  however, 
that  it  is  not  more  ennobled  by  a  cheering  hope  of  Immortality. 


VISIONS    IN   TWILIGHT.  295 

Still  sitting  alone  in  the  chamber  window, 
absorbed  in  enchanting  reverie  in  the  visions  of  the 
past,  the  flight  of  time  has  been  unheeded.  The 
neutral  tints  of  twilight  have  deepened  into  the 
decided  hues  of  night.  Stars,  one  by  one,  are 
revealing  their  luminous  faces,  that  seem  like 
watchful  angel  eyes ;  the  fire-fly,  on  glancing  wing, 
gambols  through  the  freshened  air ;  the  breeze  is 
burdened  with  perfume  from  the  night-blooming 
cerus  and  evening  primrose ;  the  cricket  has  com 
menced  its  monotonous  chirp ;  the  whippoorwill 
his  plaint,  and  the  clock  upon  the  mantel  un 
ceasingly  iterates  the  incomprehensible  word, 
E-ter-ni-ty  ! — E-ter-ni-ty  ! 

But  now  the  jewelled  curtain  of  night  is  spread 
over  all  things,  the  hour  of  reverie  is  closed,  the  hour 
most  hallowed  to  those  who  love  to  hold  converse 
with  the  beloved  departed — and  we,  draped  in 
darkness,  arouse  from  communings  with  shadows  to 
exclaim  with  heart-felt  earnestness — 

"  All  on  earth  is  shadow — all  beyond,  substance." 

AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GAREETT. 


n 

4  Above,  below,  aerial  murmurs  swell, 
From  hanging  wood,  brown  heath,  and  bushy  dell ! 
A  thousand  nameless  rills,  that  shun  the  light, 
Stealing  soft  music  on  the  ear  of  night." — ROGERS. 

O  full  is  all  nature  of  music  that  if  we  go  to 
a  lonely  spot  and  remain  perfectly  quiet,  in 
the  airy  stillness  we  hear  a  sort  of  dreamy 
whispering  "—a  whispering,  as  it  were,  of 
the  harps  and  voices  of  the  celestial  com 
pany  at  a  great  distance.  To  an  attentive  spirit 
this  mysterious  murmuring  must  ever  be  sugges 
tive  of  fine  imaginings ;  of  the  sounds 

"  Symphonious  of  ten  thousand  harps  that  tune 
Angelic  harmonies." 

How  often,  while  listening  in  the  calm  twilight, 
or  in  the  hush  of  the  starry  midnight,  to  some 
distant  pensive  strain,  now  swelling,  now  sink 
ing,  now  trembling  into  silence— do  our  spirits 
seem  as  if  in  converse  with  the  disembodied! 


REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT.  297 

Then  do  we  realize  the  truth  of  our  immortal 
nature,  and  rise  superior  to  human  passion ; — then 
it  is,  that  angels  hold  communion  with  us,  and  not 
a  sublunary  care  intrudes  upon  the  sacred  repose. 
At  such  moments  earnestly  do  we  echo  the  aspira 
tion  of  the  Psalmist,  and  long  for  the  wings  of 
the  dove  that  we  may  fly  away  and  be  at  rest ! 

"  0  !  I  am  rapt  aloft,  my  spirit  soars 

Beyond  the  skies,  and  leaves  the  stars  behind ; 
Lo  !  angels  lead  me  to  the  happy  shores, 

And  floating  peans  fill  the  buoyant  wind; 
Farewell!  base  earth,  farewell!  my  soul  is  freed!" 

If,  during  life,  angels  thus  minister  to  us  con 
soling  thoughts,  may  we  not  believe  that  around 
the  couch  of  the  departing  child  of  God  they  mani 
fest  a  deeper  solicitude  and  chant  their  sweetest 
melodies  unheard  of  any  save  the  passing  soul? 
A  number  of  friends  were  once  assembled  in  the 
chamber  of  one  about  to  exchange  mortality  for 
life.  He  had  walked  through  this  world  ever 
"  looking  up  "  with  steadfast  eye  to  the  City  that 
hath  foundations,  and  therefore  for  him  the  sting 
of  death  had  been  drawn,  the  last  enemy  had  been 
disarmed  of  his  accustomed  terrors.  It  was  even 
ing  in  summer-time,  and  the  sun,  ere,  retiring  to 

his  bed  of  purple  and  gold,  he  disappeared  ber 
13* 


REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT. 

neath  the  horizon,  threw  aslant  the  pillow  a  last 
rosy  beam,  as  if  in  token  of  eternal  farewell. 
Each  was  to  rise  again,  but  amid  scenes  how  di 
verse  !  Attending  angels  must  have  bestowed 
upon  the  watchers  a  preternatural  sense  of  hearing, 
for,  as  the  lingering  flush  paled  and  faded,  the  most 
entrancing  melody  was  distinctly  audible  around 
the  bed  of  the  dying  man.  These  celestial  strains 
continued  for  the  space  of  half  an  hour,  when,  with 
the  radiance  of  immortality  illumining  his  counte 
nance,  he  fell  asleep, 

"  'Till  haply  waked  by  Raphael's  golden  lyre 
To  bear  a  part  in  everlasting  lays." 

The  ancients  affirmed  that  the  souls  of  the  good 
were  ushered  into  Elysium  by  strains  of  divinest 
harmony.  Many  persons  have  departed  this  sub 
lunary  scene  with  songs  of  joy  quivering  upon 
their  pallid  lips.  A  celebrated  musician  expired 
while  singing  one  of  his  own  superb  sacred  strains, 
as  did  Roscommon,  in  the  utterance  of  two  lines 
of  his  own  version  of  "  Dies  Irse."  Oh,  unspeak 
ably  happy  state  !  where  the  gladness  of  approach 
ing  beatitude  is  thus  potent  to  swallow  up  the 
pangs  of  nature's  throes.  But  that  song  !  that 
song  which  none  may  ever  sing  save  those  who 


KEVEKIES    IN    STARLIGHT. 

have  passed  over  the  shining  threshold  !  may  we 
be  permitted  to  chant  its  fervid  numbers  in  unison 
with  those  in  whose  quiet  graves  the  music  of  our 
hearts  lies  buried ! 

"  A  loftier  strain, 

A  deeper  music !  something  that  may  bear 
The  spirit  upon  slow,  yet  mighty  wings, 
Unsway'd  by  gusts  of  earth  :  something  all  fill'd 
With  solemn  adoration,  tearful  prayer." 

Delighting  in  happiness,  soothing  in  sorrow,  and 
animating  in  the  hour  of  death,  yet  never  does 
music  seem  fuller  of  sweetness  and  tenderness  than 
when  discoursed  around  an  open  grave.  It  then 
seems  to  be  consecrated  to  its  highest  purpose.  It 
is  indeed  blissful  to  feel  that,  while  the  song  of 
praise  ascends  to  heaven  for  another  of  "  Thy  ser 
vants  departed  this  life  in  Thy  faith  and  fear," 
that  dear  friend  is  already  initiated  into  the  New 
Song ;  and  as  our  Spirits,  borne  on  the  wings  of 
the  exultant  harmony,  soar  higher  and  higher, 
until  they  near  the  pearly  gates,  we  a1'.  Most  hear 
those  ere  while  familiar  tones  blending  in  the  choral 
of  the  skies. 

Chrysostom  says  of  the  early  Christians  :  "  They 
accompany  the  departed  with  songs ;  they  call  this 
an  attendance,  not  a  funeral." 


300  REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT. 

But  yon  dark  cell  imprisons  the  form  we  held 
most  precious — the  insensate  mould  presses  heavily 
upon  the  heart  which  not  long  erst  throbbed  re 
sponsive  to  ours ;  were  not  a  dirge  more  befitting 
the  sepulchre  of  our  fondest  hopes  and  affections 
than  a  loftier  strain  ?  No !  That  form  beloved 
shall  rise  again  to  light  and  love  in  the  morning  of 
resurrection ;  "  that  mortal  shall  put  on  immor 
tality."  Therefore  is  the  song  one  of  serene  hope. 
The  effect  produced  on  a  person  hearing,  for  the 
first  time,  this  funeral  singing,  is  electrical.  Death, 
the  stern  monster,  shorn  of  his  horrors,  assumes  the 
guise  of  an  enfranchising  angel.  In  lieu  of  lower 
ing  gloom  and  darkness,  the  grave  is  enlivened  by 
a  ray  of  celestial  brilliance ;  and,  in  place  of 
the  wail  of  despair,  or  the  silence  of  unutterable 
agony,  are  heard  the  inspiring  accents  of  a  white- 
vestured  seraph,  exclaiming — "  He  is  not  here,  he  is 
risen  /" 

The  beautiful  custom  of  singing  at  the  grave  is 
much  practised  among  the  Germans.  Never  can 
be  obliterated  the  impression  made  upon  me  when 
first  I  witnessed  one  of  their  burial  scenes,  and 
heard  a  solemn  old  choral  chanted  in  the  German 
tongue.  Many  a  mile  would  I  be  willing  to  travel 
to  list  once  more  to  such  thrilling  harmony ;  it 


REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT.  301 

sank  into  my  soul  until  the  intensity  of  pleasure 
bordered  upon  pain.  Funeral  singing,  accon> 
panied  by  the  tolling  bell,  is,  or  used  to  be,  com 
mon  in  the  rural  parts  of  England.  Leigh  Eich- 
mond,  in  the  "  Dairyman's  Daughter,"  gives  a  beau 
tiful  description  of  a  country  funeral  and  the 
solemnizing  effect  of  the  hymn  sung  as  the  proces 
sion  wound  through  the  green  hills  and  flowery 
dales  towards  the  churchyard.  It  is  a  source  of 
regret  that  the  custom  of  thus  hallowing  obsequies 
by  the  use  of  music  should  not  prevail  among  us ; 
among,  at  least,  the  more  refined  and  religious  por 
tion  of  the  community.  It  is  not  supposed  that  sino-- 
ing  would  be  practicable  or  even  decorous  in  the 
noisy  thoroughfares  of  the  city,  but  around  the  grave, 
amid  the  sacred  stillness  of  the  cemetery,  no  such 
objection  can  possibly  exist.  "Wordsworth  thus 
beautifully  describes  the  effect  upon  his  mind  of 
this  species  of  melody  : 

"  From  yon  crag, 

Down  whose  steep  sides  we  drooped  into  the  vale, 
We  heard  the  hymn  they  sang — a  solemn  sound 
Heard  anywhere,  but  in  a  place  like  this 
'Tis  more  than  human !     Many  precious  rites 
And  customs  of  our  rural  ancestry 
Are  gone,  or  stealing  from  us ;  this,  I  hope, 
Will  last  forever.     Often  have  I  stopped 


302  REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT. 

When  on  my  way — I  could  not  choose  but  stop, 

So  much  I  felt  the  awfulness  of  Life— 

In  that  one  moment  when  the  corpse  is  lifted 

In  silence,  with  a  hush  of  decency, 

Then  from  the  threshold  moves  with  song  of  peace, 

And  confidential  yearnings,  to  its  home — 

Its  final  home  on  earth." 

The  prevailing  spirit  of  the  world  is  preemi 
nently  utilitarian,  to  the  detriment  of  all  that  is 
poetical,  sacred,  and  which  appeals  to  the  holier 
and  better  sensibilities  of  onr  nature.  The  finest 
emotions  of  the  soul  are  stifled  beneath  the  rubbish 
of  mere  temporalities.  In  no  case  is  the  lack  of 
poetic  sentiment  more  frequently  evident  than  in 
the  burial  of  the  dead.  It  is  not  sufficiently 
invested  with  sacredness,  it  savors  too  much  of  the 
hurried,  bustling  spirit  of  the  world.  Not  that  it 
would  be  desirable  to  revive  any  of  the  gloomy 
austerities  of  ancient  feudal  pomp  as  connected  with 
the  return  of  dust  to  dust :  the  ostentatious  lying 
in  state — the  emblazoned,  draped  escutcheon  with 
its  awful  garniture  of  death's-head  and  cross-bones, 
displayed  on  the  house-front — the  lugubrious  mutes 
• — the  gloomy  procession,  disturbing  at  midnight 
with  torch-glare,  the  boding  silence  and  darkness 
of  the  low-browed,  misty  tomb; — not  so;  away 
with  these  horrors  ?  Let  not  death  be  arrayed  in 


REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT.  303 

artificial  terrors ;  rather  let  a  halo  of  glory  encircle 
his  presence,  radiating  light  all  around.  Hope 
knows  no  night.  It  is  a  significant  expression  of 
Saint  Augustine,  "  the  morning  of  the  resurrection." 
The  dying  request  made  by  Professor  Caldwell  of 
his  wife,  is  peculiarly  touching  and  beautiful : 
"When  you  visit  the  spot  where  I  lie,  do  not 
choose  a  sad  and  mournful  time ;  do  not  go  in  the 
shade  of  evening,  or  in  the  dark  of  night.  These 
are  no  times  to  visit  the  grave  of  one  who  hopes 
and  trusts  in  a  risen  Redeemer ;  but  come  in  the 
morning,  in  the  bright  sunshine,  and  when  the  birds 
are  singing." 

Death  is  a  solemn  lesson  intended  to  tell  home  to 
the  hearts  of  the  living — a  presage,  or  rather  a  re 
minder  to  each  one,  that  also  to  him  draweth  nigh 
the  hour  when  thus  "  shall  his  dust  return  to  the 
earth  as  it  was  ;  and  the  spirit  shall  return  unto 
God  wrho  gave  it ;"  and,  therefore,  every  effort  in 
the  spirit  of  simple  piety,  should  be  made  to  deepen 
its  impressions,  ever,  alas !  too  evanescent.  For 
this  purpose,  music  is  a  powerful  talisman.  A 
funeral  hymn  heard  at  the  burial  of  a  dear  com 
panion,  who  could  ever  forget  ? 

A  noble  psalm,  chanted  fervently  by  a  funeral 
cortege  from  the  summit  of  a  sun-kissed  mount,  or 


304:  REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT. 

midst  the  drooping  foliage  of  a  sequestered  glen  in 
our  picturesquely  beautiful  Greenwood,  would 
indeed  be  an  anthem  well  worthy  the  listening — it 
would  be,  to  a  soul  imbued  with  a  sense  of  the 
lovely,  the  holy,  the  instructive,  sublimity  of  the 
highest  order. 

"  0  God !  our  help  in  ages  past, 
Our  hope  for  years  to  come ; 
Our  shelter  from  the  stormy  blast, 
And  our  eternal  home," 

united  with  Christmas,  or  Dundee,  pouring  forth 
from  the  romantic  precincts  of  Sylvan  Water ;  from 
some  shadowy  dell  scarce  ever  visited  by  Sol's 
faintest  ray;  from  the  brow  of  Ocean  Hill,  or 
from  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  stately  mausolea 
so  numerously  disposed  throughout  that  City  of 
the  Silent,  would  indeed  be  magnificently  impres 
sive.  Me  thinks,  after  such  enchanting  minstrelsy, 
many  a  heart-stricken  mourner  would  return  to 
his  desolated  hearth,  with  soul  more  beneficially 
chastened,  and  desires  and  resolves  more  spiritual 
ized,  and  many  a  thoughtless  loiterer,  heedless  of 
eternity  and  its  all-important  issues,  receive  teach 
ings  of  inestimable  value  ;  for  at  no  other  time  is 
the  mind  in  so  favorable  a  frame  to  entertain  seri- 


REVERIES   IN    STARLIGHT.  305 

ous  thoughts  as  when  in  the  immediate  presence  of 
death. 

The  burial  service  of  the  Episcopal  Church, 
when  fitly  solemnized  and  accompanied  by  suit 
able  music,  has  for  me  an  intenser  sublimity  and 
grandeur  than  could  be  derived  from  any  other 
source  whatever.  Not  the  finest  concert  to  which 
I  have  ever  listened  had  power  to  impart  to  me 
such  complete  pleasure.  It  exalts  the  soul  from 
earth  and  far  beyond  the  vanities  of  time.  Sur 
rounded  by  such  elevating  influences,  who,  illu 
mined  by  the  light  of  the  Gospel  faith,  would 
suffer  his  imagination  to  grovel 

"  'Mid  skulls  and  coffins,  epitaphs  and  worms  ?" 

E"ay,  rather,  O  wounded  and  despairing  soul !  turn 
thy  weeping  eyes  heavenward,  and  there,  in  the 
glowing  east,  behold  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 
emerging  in  effulgent  majesty  from  the  thrall  of 
nature's  blackness,  and  hearken  to  a  voice  proclaim 
ing,  in  tones  of  incomparable  sweetness  : — "  I  AM 

THE     RESURRECTION,     AND     THE    LIFE  :      HE    THAT    BE- 

LIEVETH  IN  ME,  THOUGH  HE  WERE  DEAD,  YET  SHALL 
HE  LIVE  :  AND  WHOSOEVER  LIVETH  AND  BELIEVETH 
IN  ME  SHALL  NEVER  DIE  !" 

Jean  Paul  Kichter  thus  finely  defines  the  grave : 


306  KEVEKIES    IN    STARLIGHT. 

"  The  grave  is  not  dark ;  it  is  the  shining  foot 
steps  of  an  angel  that  calls  us.  "When  the  un 
known  hand  hath  sent  the  last  arrow  to  the  head 
of  man,  he  bows  before  it ;  and  the  arrow  removes 
the  crown  of  thorns  from  his  wounds."  Therefore, 
let  us — trusters  in  a  bright  eternity — we,  who  cher 
ish  the  unwavering  hope  that,  when  the  light  of 
earth  is  fading  from  our  mortal  vision,  the  radiance 
of  that  City  that  needs  no  sun  shall  be  dawning 
upon  us ;  and  that,  when  the  ear  shall  become 
insensible  to  the  sweetest  of  earth-born  tones, 
voices  and  symphonies  celestial  shall  greet  our 
ascending  spirits — let  us,  with  hymns  of  faith  and 
holy  submission,  commit  the  bodies  of  our  departed 
to  the  ground — "  earth  to  earth — ashes  to  ashes — 
dust  to  dust" — looking  for  the  day  of  universal 
resurrection,  when  they  shall  arise,  purified  from 
every  taint  of  corruption,  to  be  forever  with  the 
Lord. 

Nor  let  the  motives  for  advocating  this  beautiful 
practice  be  misconstrued ;  let  it  not  be  thought  that 
a  desire  to  imitate  the  dreary  philosophy  of  that 
nation  of  old,  who,  impressed  with  the  hollowness 
and  transitoriness  of  terrestrial  bliss,  and  having, 
moreover,  no  cheering  knowledge  of  a  state  of  fu 
ture  and  permanent  blessedness,  wept  above  the 


REVERIES    IN    STARLIGHT.  307 

infant  cradle  and  laughed  over  the  new-made  grave 
is  ours : — neither  let  it  be  thought  that  we  would 
indulge  in  the  solemn  mockery  of  masses  for  the 
dead— being  assured  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  that 
where  the  tree  falls  there  shall  it  lie ; — or  in 
mournful  requiems  that  breathe  but  the  wailings 
of  anguish  and  the  pleadings  of  unavailing  passion. 
No ;  from  a  purer,  a  higher  source  emanates  our 
consolation.  As  Christians  we  learn  to  view  the 
sepulchre  as  a  quiet,  blossom-begirt  couch,  wherein 
may  calmly  slumber  off  his  fatigue,  life's  weary 
pilgrim,  while  awaiting  the  consummation  of  all 
things  temporal.  Thus,  with  strains  of  solemn, 
tender  music,  would  we  compose  our  friends  to 
their  silent  rest,  thus  hallow  their  tranquil  slum 
bers,  and  thus  deepen  within  our  own  bosoms, 
sacred  impressions. 

Flint,  in  his  "  Kecollections  of  the  Valley  of  the 
Mississippi,"  thus  describes  a  German  funeral 
which  he  witnessed  :  "  I  attended  a  funeral  where 
there  were  a  number  of  German  settlers  present. 
After  I  had  performed  such  service  as  is  usual  on 
similar  occasions,  a  most  venerable-looking  old 
man  came  forward,  and  asked  me  if  I  were  willing 
that  they  should  perform  some  of  their  peculiar 
rites.  He  opened  a  very  ancient  version  of  Lu- 


308  REVERIES   IN    STARLIGHT. 

ther's  Hymns,  and  they  all  began  to  sing  in  Ger 
man,  so  loud  that  the  woods  echoed  the  strain. 
There  was  something  affecting  in  the  singing  of 
these  ancient  people  carrying  one  of  their  brethren 
to  his  last  home,  and  using  the  language  and  rites 
which  they  had  brought  with  them  over  the  sea 
from  the  Vaterland,  a  word  which  often  occurred 
in  the  hymn.  It  was  a  long,  slow,  and  mournful 
air,  which  they  sang,  as  they  bore  the  body  along ; 
the  words  <  Mein  Gott]  <  Mein  BruderJ  and  '  Vater- 
land?  died  away  in  distant  echoes  amongst  the 
woods.  I  shall  long  remember  that  funeral  hymn !" 

"  The  *  Fatherland  /' — with  that  sweet  word 
A  burst  of  tears  'midst  the  strain  was  heard. 
4  Brother !  were  we  there  with  thee 
Rich  would  many  a  meeting  be  ! 
Many  a  broken  garland  bound, 
Many  a  mourned  and  lost  one  found ! 
But  our  task  is  still  to  bear, 
Still  to  breathe  in  changeful  air  ; 
Loved  and  bright  things  to  resign, 
As  even  now  this  dust  of  thine ; 
Yet  to  hope ! — to  hope  in  Heaven, 
Though  flowers  fall,  and  ties  be  riven— 
Yet  to  pray !  and  wait  the  hand 
Beckoning  from  the  Fatherland  !' 
And  the  requiem  died  in  the  forest  gloom  ;— 
They  had  reached  the  Exile's  lonely  tomb !" 

AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GARRETT. 


"  And  other  days  come  back  to  me 
With  recollected  music,  though  the  tone 
Is  chaug'd  and  solemn,  like  the  cloudy  groan. 
Of  dying  thunder  on  the  distant  wind." 

!N"  order  to  ennoble  and  exalt  the  soul,  the 
Creator  imbued  it  with  the  love  of  music  as 
a  part  of  its  vital  essence  ;  and  thus  many  a 
heart  is  full  of  melody,  as  if  joybells  within 
it  were  chiming  a  ceaseless  jubilate,  which  is 
incapable,  or,  it  may  be,  undesirous  of  giving  it  in 
telligible  utterance.  The  true  office  of  the  sci 
ence  of  sweet  sounds  is  to  elevate  our  aspirations 
and  thoughts  to  Paradise,  from  whence  it  emanates, 
where  all  is  harmony ;  where  the  crystal  streams, 
as  they  ripple  through  the  green  pastures,  murmur 
praises,  and  the  lowliest  flowerets,  when  brushed 
by  angel  garments,  breathe  songs  of  adoration. 
Music  is  the  language  of  immortality — the  intima- 
tor  of  our  heavenly  destination,  ever  arousing 
within  our  souls,  by  its  solemn  monitory  voicings, 


310  SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION. 

unquiet,  restless  longings  after  an  indefinable  some 
thing,  which,  although  ever  invisible  and  elusive, 
we  are  yet  confident  exists.  It  suggests  a  thousand 
hints  of  a  preexistent  state  of  being ;  and  while 
captive  to  its  profound  spell,  glimpses  of  a  dim, 
half-obliterated  past,  flit  before  us,  and  visions  of 
unearthly  loveliness — until,  oblivious  to  the  reali 
ties  of  the  present,  we  pant  to  cast  off  our  cumber 
some  clay  habiliments,  and  speed  away  to  search 
into  the  mysteries  that  so  encompass  us,  and  mingle 
in  communion  with  superior  intelligences.  While 
struggling  under  such  influences,  how  oft,  from  the 
depths  of  the  heart,  arises  the  earnest  inquiry,  "Tell 
us,  ah !  tell  us  why,  and  to  what  end  are  we  here, 
exiles  from  the  Home  of  our  Father?"  Though 
enchanted  and  subdued  by  its  powers,  Richter  must 
have  hearkened  unto  music  with  a  but  half- 
awakened  spirit  when  he  exclaimed  :  "  Away  ! 
away !  thou  speakest  to  me  of  things  which  in  all 
mine  endless  life  I  have  found  not,  and  shall  not 
find !" 

No !  he  found  them  not  here  below ;  the  thirst 
awakened  by  the  murmurings  of  the  "Water  of  Life, 
may  not  be  slaked  until  we  arrive  at  its  margin. 

There  is  a  magic  in  old  psalm-tunes,  which  a 
frivolous  mind  can  neither  comprehend  nor  appre- 


SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION.  311 

ciate,  and  to  which,  consequently,  it  must  always  be 
irresponsive ;  but  it  is  a  magic,  which,  to  the 
thoughtful,  serious  mind,  is  sweeter  and  more  in 
tensely  eloquent,  than  any  other  whatever.  As  the 
familiar  strain  rolls  resonantly  along  the  gotliic 
arches  of  the  dim  cathedral,  the  aged  worshipper, 
forgetful  of  the  sacred  magnificence  surrounding 
him,  is  transported  back  to  the  simple  village 
church  of  his  boyhood's  Sabbath,  and  lists  once 
more  to  the  dear  voices  that  were  wont  to  ascend 
with  his  in  this  very  melody ;  and,  as  the  cadence 
dissolves,  floating  away  in  aerial  symphonies,  his 
heart  follows  on,  glowing  in  the  assurance  that,  ere 
long,  he  too,  shall  join  in  the  far  more  exultant  lays 
that  now  flow  from  their  lips.  In  the  tears,  there 
fore,  springing  so  fast  to  his  eyes,  there  is  no  bitter 
ness — they  are  dewdrops  of  hope. 

To  such  a  one  music  is  an  unfailing  resource  of 
pure  unalloyed  gratification.  The  delicate  thread, 
which,  at  his  birth  attached  him  to  the  Throne  of 
God,  has  never  been  rudely  sundered ;  and  now,  as 
in  the  winding  hand  of  the  Angel  of  Time,  it  is 
gradually  shortening,  drawing  him  to  his  Home,  he 
becomes  more  and  more  alive  to  the  vibratory 
pulses  of  the  celestial  harmonies,  until,  on  his  com 
plete  absorption  into  the  true  and  excellent  Life, 


312  SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION. 

they  burst  upon  his  raptured  soul  in  full  magnifi 
cence. 

"  There  is  an  hour  of  deep  repose, 
That  yet  upon  my  heart  shall  close, 
When  all  that  nature  dreads  or  knows 
Shall  burst  upon  me  wondrously. 
Oh !  may  I  then  awake  forever, 
My  harp  to  rapture's  high  endeavor, 
And  as  from  earth's  vain  scenes  I  sever, 
Be  lost  in  immortality !" 

That  the  associations  of  sacred  music  are  thus 
especially  hallowing  is  attributable  to  the  reason 
that  they  belong  to  our  holier  moments — that  they 
are  connected  with  seasons  spent  in  the  church — in 
social  communion — and  in  the  mysterious  transi 
tion-chamber,  where,  from  lips  pallid  and  quivering, 
faltered  the  swan-like  song  of  triumph  that  pro 
claimed  the  victory  won,  the  mighty  goal  gained. 
A  remembrance  of  this  latter  nature  surrounds 
even  the  simplest  and  plainest  air  with  a  nimbus 
of  irradiating  beauty. 

It  was  during  the  first  deep  blackness  of  one  of  those 
bitter  storms  of  life  which  sweep  with  whirlwind  vio 
lence  over  the  heart,  crushing  every  hope  into  dust, 
and  smiting  it  with  sudden  paralysis,  that  a  strain 
of  music  was  indelibly  impressed  on  my  mind 


SPRINGS   OF   ASSOCIATION.  313 

through  the  medium  of  a  street  organ.  The  pro 
prietor  of  one  of  these  despised  instruments,  hav 
ing  stationed  himself  opposite  the  door  of  the  house 
where  I  was,  commenced  discoursing  his  harmo 
nious  numbers.  Had  the  result  of  his  efforts  been 
a  popular  melody  or  dance  tune,  it  is  probable  that 
not  the  slightest  attention  would  have  been 
attracted :  but  it  was  a  psalm-tune — the  familiar 
one,  St.  Ephraim's — which,  although  previously 
rather  an  antipathy  of  mine  than  otherwise,  now 
sounded  so  sympathizingly  sad,  so  burdened  with 
tender  pathos,  that  it  seemed  beautiful  and  affecting 
above  anything  I  had  ever  listened  to  before.  It 
was  as  a  song  of  hope  to  despair — like  a  silver-edge 
to  that  terrible  thunder-cloud ;  and  beloved  com- 
mensurably  ever  since  it  has  been  for  the  ray  of 
light  then  darted. 

Who  knows  not  the  beautiful  old  "Easter 
Hymn,"  with  its  winding  refrain  of  Hallelujah  at 
the  end  of  each  musical  phrase,  so  sweetly  quaint 
in  its  melody  ?  As  suits  its  occasion,  it  is  exceed 
ingly  glad  and  jubilant  in  mood,  and  would  not 
seem  calculated  to  impress  with  melancholy  any 
heart;  yet,  withal,  to  me  it  embodies  the  very 
essence  of  grief  and  despairing  love.  And  why 
this  contrary  effect?  Because  it  calls  to  remem- 

14 


314:  SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION. 

brance  a  tragedy  of  early  childhood,  a  sorrowful 
story  of  bereavement,  which  lades  every  note  with 
the  sigh  of  a  breaking  heart.     It  speaks  in  thrill 
ing  tones  of  the  noble  young  brother  of  eighteen 
summers,  and  the  fair  little  sister  of  six,  the  only 
children  of  an  officer  in  the  army — who,  going  out 
together  one  day  to  walk  on  the  river,  which  an  un 
usually  severe  winter  had  frozen  over  to  a  great 
distance,    perished   from  the  cold.     It  tells  how, 
after  the  parental  hearts  had  watched  and  waited  in 
vain,  during  two  weary  days  and  nights,  for  their 
return,  they   were  at  length  borne  home  to  the 
desolated  hearthstone  from  the  couch  of  ice  where 
they  lay  dead  in  each  other's  arms ;  the  boy  having 
deprived  himself  of  nearly  all  his  garments,  even 
to  his  stockings,  to  protect  the  more  tender  little 
one;    and  it  pictures  vividly  that  long,  winding, 
mournful  funeral  procession,  slow  pacing  to  this 
very   strain,   which   soon   after    accompanied  the 
heart-broken  father  to  the  house  appointed  for  all 
living.    *Hence  the  mournfulness  of  the  tune  to  me 
while  to  others  it  is  joyous  :  it  is  all  in  association. 
Associations  furnish  the  real   charm   of  every 
thing  ;  and  even  when,  through  expediency,  or  a 
conviction   of   its   excellence,  we   are   induced  to 
adopt  and  embrace  a  fresh  object,  our  first  care 


SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION.  315 

ever  is,  before  we  can  yield  -it  cordial  love  or  rev 
erence,  to  cluster  around  it  a  group  of  accessories, 
or  secondary  influences,  else  our  jewel  is  useless 
— it  is  without  a  mounting1. 

o 

Do  you  wisli  to  subject  an  untried  heart  to  an 
ordeal  of  faith  and  love  ?  Mark,  then,  that  heart, 
how  it  retains  and  treasures  up  the  recollections 
of  early  tendernesses,  of  by-gone  years  ;  mark  well 
how  it  hoards  up  the  memorials  of  former  days, — 
relics  inseparably  linked  with  spirit-loves  ;  for  be 
assured  that  one  faithful  to  the  memory  of  the  de 
parted,  will  be  no  less  loyal  to  the  affection  of  the 
living.  The  preservation  of  a  lock  of  hair — of  a 
withered  flowrer — of  a  scrap  of  an  old  letter — of 
even  the  minutest  atom,  often  discloses,  more 
plainly  than  could  volumes,  the  existence  of  a 
heart-history,  perchance  marvellously  touching  in 
devotedness  and  romance.  In  the  highest  class  of 
mementoes  are  old  strains  of  music ;  and  cold, 
light-of-love,  and  utterly  barren  must  that  heart 
be,  which  throbs  not  at  the  recurrence  of  some 
simple  cradle-song,  some  dear  strain  of  youth. 
The  bosom  that  owns  no  such  gentle  sway,  is 
incapable  of  entertaining  or  reciprocating  a  single 
emotion  of  sincere  fervent  love.  Beware  of  that 
heart !  it  is,  notwithstanding  all  protestations  to  the 


316  SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION. 

contrary,  perfidious  and  frigid.  Beware  of  in 
trusting  to  its  tender  mercies  your  smallest  interest, 
for  if  you  do,  so  surely  will  it  betray  them. 

The  human  heart  craves  occupance,  it  will  not, 
cannot  remain  an  empty  void.     So,  if  it  be  not 
filled  with  fragrant  blossoms  and  fruits,  it  assuredly 
will  be  with  noisome  weeds  and  brambles.    It  must 
have  somewhat  to  bestow  love  upon,— some  recipi 
ent  of  its  ever  out-flowing  sympathies  ;  and  the  ob 
ject,  when  once  chosen,  heedless,  whether  in  the  view 
of  others,  it  seem  worthy  or  unworthy,  it  will  pro 
ceed  to  invest  with  attributes  so  excelling  and  hues 
so  resplendent,  as  befit  the  idol  of  the  spirit  shrine. 
Isolation  is  repugnant  to  the  soul — a  direct  vio 
lence  to  its  nature  ;  and  from  the  moment  that  it 
draws  in  its  anchor,  and  relinquishes  a  hold  upon 
some  object,  however  trivial,  it  drifts  surely  and 
rapidly  adown  towards  the  breakers  of  desolation 
and  wreck.     That  is  a  pretty  story  of  the  noble 
Italian  prisoner,  who,  pining  in  the  solitude  of  his 
dungeon  for  companionship,  chanced,  one  day,  to 
discover,  insinuating   its  way  through   the  stones 
outside   his  prison   door,  an  insignificant,  fragile 
weed.     Delighted  beyond  measure  at  obtaining  an 
object  on  which  he  might  lavish  his  care,  the  cap 
tive  watched  over  his  treasure  with  a  love  so  trem- 


SPEINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION.  317 

bling  and  engrossing,  that  it  would  have  appeared 
extravagant  if  applied  to  a  human  creature.  But 
the  weed  JPicciola  "was  not  all  a  weed" — it  was  a 
link  of  association  with  that  world  from  which  he 
was  so  entirely  secluded,  and  an  instrument  that 
revived  a  host  of  memories  smouldering  into  ashes 
at  the  root  of  his  heart. 

In  this  manner  an  old  music  book  may  become, 
nay,  is,  an  invaluable  record — a  collection  of  thrill 
ing  incidents — a  chronicle  of  departed  scenes, — 
or  a  mirror  of  the  past,  magical  as  was  that 
famed  one  of  old,  into  which,  with  irrepressible 
longings  to  behold  once  again  his  lost  child  swell 
ing  within  his  breast,  gazed,  of  pilgrims  the  chief, 
the  wandering  Jew.  Every  one  of  such  venerable 
volumes  is  so  sacred  and  fraught  with  interest, 
that  I  would  fain  have  it  treated  with  a  reverence 
not  to  be  awarded  to  the  most  sublime  and  magni 
ficent  ebullition  of  ^associated  modern  genius. 

O 

I  have  a  flock  of  juvenile  melodies  and  strains 
which,  despite  all  that  I  can  do,  will  keep  per 
petually  floating  about  in  my  mind.  'Tis  but  vain 
that  I  argue  with  myself  on  the  folly  of  giving 
them  quarters  and  free  range  through  the  cham 
bers  of  my  brain,  and  seek,  forthwith,  to  put  them 
to  ignominious  flight,  by  a  flourish  of  trumpets 


318  SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION.    - 

from  advancing  rivals,  or  crush  them  beneath  the 
weight  of  more  pretentious  modern  achievements. 
In  vain :  all  will  not  do ;  eftsoons,  the  rogues  re 
turn,  not  a  whit  daunted,  and,  ere  long,  I  feel 
them  nestling  warm  to  my  heart,  as  of  yore. 
Aye,  there  cling,  little  humble  weeds,  though  ye 
be  !  soft  and  loving  are  your  associations  and  no 
more  will  I  blush  at  your  ascendency. 

Not  unfrequently  do  I  marvel  much  at  the 
stolidity  of  persons  to  whom  I  am  playing  some 
thing  which  1  regard  as  exceedingly  beautiful  and 
grand,  and  of  which  I  am  especially  choice  as  one 
of  my  early  loves ;  and  grieved  at  the  utter  lack  of 
sympathy  manifested,  am  tempted  to  conclude  that 
they  have  not  souls  attuned  to  the  concord  of  sweet 
sounds.  On  reflection,  however,  I  bethink  me  that 
the  asso'  Cations  that  attach  me  to  the  piece,  can 
have  no  possible  charm  for  those  who  are  unawares 
even  of  their  existence.  Probably  the  mutual  as 
sociation  of  ideas  is  the  strongest  link  which  binds 
and  draws  together  old  friends, — it  is  more  powerful 
than  any  other.  "What  an  exquisite  felicity  is  it  to 
possess  far-off  memories  in  common  with  another ; 
to  share  childhood's  sweet  memories — youth's 
romantic  memories — manhood's  thoughtful  memo 
ries,  with  a  kindred  heart !  Companionship  in  joy 


SPRINGS   OF   ASSOCIATION.  319 

or  sorrow,  in  peril  or  peace,  must  needs  endear  peo 
ple  to  each  other.  Thus  does  the  old  man  mourn 
the  loss  of  his  friend  as  no  young  one  may  do ;  for 
youth  is  rich  in  time,  and  time  produces  fresh  blos 
soms  and  fruit. 

My  musical  library  is  to  me  a  chronological 
chart — unintelligible,  it  is  true,  to  others — but  by 
no  means,  therefore,  of  an  exclusively  personal 
nature,  or  devoted  to  exclusively  personal  interests, 
for  those  of  many,  many  others  are  blent  with  it. 
Little  historiettes  and  adventures  there  are  affixed 
to  a  hundred  pieces  of  music — I  could  not  banish 
them  if  I  wrould.  Indeed,  there  is  scarce  a  solitary 
page  that  I  have  played  familiarly  from  infancy,  un- 
supplied  with  one — scarce  a  page  that  does  not 
marshal  before  memory's  vision,  with  the  freshness 
of  reality,  some  peculiar  action,  mood,  or  dawning 
sensation.  Many  of  these  associations,  it  may  not 
be  denied,  are  passing  mournful,  ever  claiming  the 
tribute  of  tears  :  but  better  is  it  to  remember  and 
weep,  than  to  forget  and  be  happy. 

Now,  here  is  a  wrell  fingered  page,  sadly  torn  and 
defaced ;  but  for  all  that,  the  whole  space,  from  top 
to  bottom,  seems  to  beam  with  one  great  broad 
smile — the  identical  smile  that  shone  over  it  on  a 
comic  occurrence  "  long,  long  ago."  Another  page 


SPRINGS   OF   ASSOCIATION. 

is  precious,  because,  at  that  cramp,  chromatic  run, 
sprang  up  in  my  mind  the  germ  of  a  new  thought 
to  be  developed  into  a  future  musical  composition ; 
and  another,  because,  in  that  cruelly  hard  stave  of 
complicated  modulations,  a  new  step  up  the  Hill 
Difficulty  was  mastered.  This  page  is  beloved, 
because  while  .playing  it,  some  joyful  tidings  were 
communicated ;  and  that  other,  because  a  pleasant, 
cheering  voice  commended  the  young  performer. 

Dear  friend,  handle  tenderly — with  more  of  rev 
erence,  that  infirm-looking  tome  with  the  faded 
marbled  cover  ; — ah,  tenderly — it  is  no  common 
book,  it  is  anointed  with  the  holiest  dews  of  the 
soul's  remembrances — its  associations  are  with  the 
beloved  ones  whose  homes  are  now  in  the  invisible 
land  of  glory  ! — with  those  whose  love  can  never, 
nevermore  change.  Sweet  peace  to  their  memo 
ries! 

"  The  love  where  death  has  set  his  seal, 
Nor  age  can  chill,  nor  rival  steal, 

Nor  falsehood  disavow." 

Here  is  a  favorite  old  ballad  that,  strange  to  say, 
effects  a  momentary  resurrection ;  for,  no  sooner  do 
I  begin  the  prelude,  than  a  lithe,  youthful  form 
springs  to  my  side,  and,  shaking  the  ashes  of  the 


SPRINGS    OF   ASSOCIATION.  321 

grave  from  his  hair,  and  broad  fair  brow,  joins,  with 
the  sweet  ringing  tones  of  yore,  in  the  well  remem 
bered  strain.  Ah,  yes;  and  yet  another  page  is 
before  me — a  duet;  but  one  of  the  singers,  where 
is  he  ?  bearing  part  with  the  angels  in  the  song  that 
gladdens  Paradise!  His  dying  whisper,  sweeter 
than  was  ever  melody  of  earth  in  its  expressions  of 
heavenly  hope  and  joy,  lingers  ever  on  mine  ear. 
And  still  another  page  opens ;  dear  fair-haired,  vio 
let-eyed  E ,  since  thy  delicate  hands  discoursed 

this  lesson,  the  angels  have  taught  thee  more  exalted 
harmonies.  Haydn's  "  How  Beautiful  Appear  !" 
the  one  who  loved  this  beautiful  air — but  be 
hushed,  moaning  heart!  acquiesce  with  trustful 
submission  to  thine  and  his  Heavenly  Father's 
will!  I  close  now  the  book;  tears  outnumber 
smiles  wherever  I  open  ;  and  tears,  the  dew  of  the 
heart,  are  not  for  the  garish  light,  but  to  be  shed  in 
the  solitude  of  deepening  shadows.  In  a  few  of  my 
own,~  I  have  portrayed  the  feelings  of  many. 
Every  genuine  lover  of  music  assimilate  s  in  mind 
and  fancy. 

It  has  frequently  been  conjectured  that  one  of 
the  employments  of  the  Blessed  in  Heaven  v.-iJl 
consist  in  recalling  old  associations — in  reminis 
cences  of  their  terrestrial  life,  and  in  reviewing  and 

14* 


322  SPRINGS   OF   ASSOCIATION. 

contrasting  the  diversified  trials,  joys,  sorrows,  and 
mercies  that  interspersed  their  Homeward  road. 
God  grant  us  a  joyful  meeting  with  all  our  beloved 
ones  in  His  own  Pleasant  Land ! 

AUGUSTA  BROWNE  GAKRETT. 


!  mj 

This  favorite  heart-uplifting  hymn,  it  is  perhaps  not  generally 
known,  was  written  by  an  old  sacred  writer,  between  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  and  three  hundred  years  ago.  It  was  discovered  in 
a  volume  of  manuscript  poems  in  the  British  Museum,  as  old  as  the 
reign  of  James  the  First ;  and  may  itself  be  of  much  earlier 
origin.  A  recent  writer  even  professes  to  trace  it  back  to  St. 
Augustine. 

A  SONG  MADE  BY  F.  B.  P. 

ERUSALEM !  my  happy  home  ! 

When  shall  I  come  to  thee, 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end, 
Tnv  j°ys  when  shall  I  see  ? 

Oh,  happy  harbor  of  the  saints  ! 

Oh,  sweet  and  pleasant  soil ! 
In  thee  no  sorrow  may  be  found, 

No  grief,  no  care,  no  toil. 

In  thee  no  sickness  may  be  seen 

No  hurt,  no  ache,  no  sore ; 
There  is  no  death,  no  ugly  deil 

There's  life  forevermore. 


324:  JERUSALEM. 

No  dampish  mist  is  seen  in  thee, 
No  cold  nor  darksome  night ; 

There  every  soul  shines  as  the  sun, 
There  God  himself  gives  light. 

There  lust  and  lucre  cannot  dwell, 
There  envy  bears  no  sway, 

There  is  no  hunger,  heat  nor  cold, 
But  pleasure  every  way. 

Jerusalem !     Jerusalem ! 

God  grant  I  once  may  see 
Thy  endless  joys,  and  of  the  same, 

Partaker  aye  to  be. 

Thy  walls  are  made  of  precious  stones, 
Thy  bulwarks  diamonds  square, 

Thy  gates  are  of  right  orient  pearl, 
Exceeding  rich  and  rare. 

Thy  turrets  and  thy  pinnacles 
With  carbuncles  do  shine, 

Thy  very  streets  are 'paved  with  gold, 
Surpassing  clear  and  fine. 

Thy  houses  are  of  ivory, 
Thy  windows  crystal  clear, 

Thy  tiles  are  made  of  beaten  gold ; 
O  God,  that  I  were  there ! 


JERUSALEM.  325 

Within  thy  gates  no  thing  doth  come 

That  is  not  passing  clean — 
ISTo  spider's  web,  no  dirt,  no  dust, 

No  filth  may  there  be  seen. 

Ah,  my  sweet  home,  Jerusalem  ! 

"Would  God  I  were  in  thee, 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end, 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see. 

Thy  saints  are  crowned  with  glory  great, 

They  see  God  face  to  face, 
They  triumph  still,  they  still  rejoice, 

Most  happy  is  their  case. 

We  that  are  here  in  banishment 

Continually  do  moan ; 
We  sigh  and  sob,  we  weep  and  wail, 

Perpetually  we  groan. 

Our  sweet  is  mixed  with  bitter  gall, 

Our  pleasure  is  but  pain, 
Our  joys  scarce  last  the  looking  on, 

Our  sorrows  still  remain. 

But  there  they  live  in  such  delight, 

Such  pleasure  and  such  play, 
As  that  to  them  a  thousand  years 

Doth  seem  as  yesterday. 


JERUSALEM. 

Thy  vineyards  and  thy  orchards  are 

Most  beautiful  and  fair, 
Full  furnished  with  trees  and  fruits, 

Most  wonderful  and  rare. 

Thy  gardens  and  thy  gallant  walks 

Continually  are  green : 
There  grow  such  sweet  and  pleasant  flowers 

As  nowhere  else  are  seen. 

There's  nectar  and  ambrosia  made, 

There's  musk  and  civet  sweet, 
There  many  a  fair  and  dainty  drug 

Are  trodden  under  feet. 

There  cinnamon,  there  sugar  grows, 

There  nard  and  balm  abound, 
What  tongue  can  tell,  or  heart  conceive 

The  joys  that  there  are  found  ? 

Quite  through  the  streets,  with  silver  sound, 

The  flood  of  life  doth  flow, 
Upon  whose  banks,  on  every  side, 

The  wood  of  life  doth  grow. 

There  trees  forevermore  bear  fruit, 

And  evermore  do  spring ; 
There  evermore  the  angels  sit 

And  evermore  do  sing, 


JERUSALEM.  32? 

There  David  stands  with  harp  in  hand, 

As  master  of  the  choir, 
Ten  thousand  times  that  man  were  blest 

That  might  this  music  hear. 

Our  lady  sings  Magnificat, 

With  tune  surpassing  sweet, 
And  all  the  virgins  bear  their  parts, 

Sitting  above  her  feet. 

Te  Deum  doth  Saint  Ambrose  sing, 

Saint  Austin  doth  the  like  ; 
Old  Simeon  and  Zachaiy 

Have  not  their  song  to  seek. 

There  Magdalene  hath  left  her  moan, 

And  cheerfully  doth  sing, 
With  blessed  saints,  whose  harmony 

In  every  street  doth  ring. 

Jerusalem  !  my  happy  home  ! 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee, 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end, 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see. 


Cmnt, 

,1118,  however,  we  know — that  when  once 
the  signal  for  our  departure  is  given,  our 
emancipated  spirits  shall  cleave  the  air,  as 
Christ  and  Elijah  did;  passing  through 
the  first  heaven,  the  earth,  its  sinful  ahode, 
shall  dwindle  into  nothing  behind  us.  The  second 
heaven,  also,  with  its  planets,  suns,  and  systems, 
stretching  far  beyond  the  reach  of  human  thought, 
will  soon  fade  back  into  dim  space.  Now,  the 
third  heaven  will  stretch  before  us,  onward  and 
upward,  its  external  plains  !  Faint  and  far  before, 
but  drawing  nearer  and  nearer,  appears  the  Holy 
City  :  soon  its  twelve  shining  foundations,  from 
which  the  battlements  of  blazing  jasper  tower 
upwards,  are  scaled, — the  portals  of  light  are 
crossed — and  n,ow  to  the  soul's  enraptured  gaze  the 
Heaven  of  heavens  stretches  broader  and  higher 
its  boundless  realms,  through  uncreated  light ! 
AMEN — HALLELUJAH  !  COME,  LORD  JESUS,  COME 


QUICKLY  ! 


EEV.  H.  HABBAUGH. 


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Consisting  of  Brilliant  Passages  from  the  Published  and  Unpublished  Sermons 

and  other  Writings  of  the 
Rev.  C.  H.  SPURGEON,  of  London. 

1  vol.  12mo.     Price  $1. 
From  the  New   York  Observer. 

"The  Publishers  of  Spurgeon's  Sermons— Sheldon,  Blakeman  &  Co.— have  in  press  a 
volume  of  '  Brilliant  Passages'  from  the  discourses  of  this  remarkable  preacher.  We 
have  seen  the  sheets  of  the  new  book,  and  every  page  is  a  flame  of  glowing  fire.  The 
extracts  are  brief  and  characteristic,  earnest,  bold  and  strong,  full  of  striking  thought, 
brilliant  imagery  and  warm  appeal.  We  think  it  will  be  far  more  attractive  than  the 
volumes  of  his  Sermons,  and  they  have  had  an  extraordinary  circulation  in  this  country11 

MEMOIR  OF  DAVID  TAPPAN  STODDARD. 

Missionary  to  the  Nestorians. 

BY  JOSEPH   P.  THOMPSON",  D.D., 

Pastor  of  the  Broadway  Tabernacle  Church,  New  York. 

Illustrated  with  a  beautiful  Steel  Portrait  of  Mr.   Stoddard,  a  View  of  his 

Birthplace,  and  several  Scenes  in  and  around  Oroomiah. 

1  vol.  12mo.     Price  $1. 

Dr.  Thompson  was  a  classmate  and  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Stoddard.  The  Memoir  is 
framed  almo'st  entirely  from  material  furnished  by  Mr.  Stoddard's  correspondence,  in 
which  his  rare  excellence  as  a  Christian  was  always  conspicuous. 

The  Rev.  H.  G.  0.  D  wight,  D.D.,  of  Constantinople,  says  of  Mr.  Stoddard. 

"I  can  say  with  truth,  that  it  was  never  my  privilege  to  contemplate  a  more  perfect 
and  complete  character.  His  talents,  natural  and  acquired,  were  varied  and  rare,  and 
yet  his  whole  deportment  was  unassuming  and  modest;  and  hie  affectionate  earnestness 
and  glowing  piety  won  all  hearts." 

Rev.  Mr.  Rhea,  of  Oroomiah,  says : 

14  His  soul  was  wrapped  up  in  his  work.  A  stream  of  love  was  continually  flowing 
through  his  heart.  He  had  the  happy  exultant  spirit  of  McCheyne  and  Summerfield." 

Rev.  Dr.  G-oodell,  of  Constantinople,  says : 

"  He  was  not  only  a  man  to  be  greatly  respected  and  esteemed,  but  also  to  be  greatly 
loved.  His  intellectual  and  moral  qualities  were  of  the  very  highest  order.'1 

The  Rev.  Rufus  Anderson,  D.D.,  Secretary  of  the  A.  B.  C.  F.  M.,  remarks' 
44  He  was  as  near  an  angel  as  ever  I  saw.11 


BOOKS  PUBLISHED  BY  SHELDON  &  COMPANY. 

NOW    READY, 

THE     NEW      YORK     PULPIT, 

IN"  THE  REVIVAL  OF  1858, 
SERMONS  PREACHED  IN  NEW  YORK  AND  BROOKLYN, 

By  the  following  Clergymen : 

Eev.  Dr.  ALEXANDER.       Rev.  Dr.  HAGUE.  Rev.  Dr.  PARKEB 

ADAMS.  "      HATFIELD.  "      PECK. 

BETHUNE.  "      Hiscox.  "      POTTS. 

BUDINGTON.  "      HITCHCOCK.  "      SMITH. 

BURCHARD.  "         IlUTTOtf.  "         STORRS. 

CLARK.  "      KENNADY.  "      THOMPSON. 

CUTLER.  "      KREBS.  "      VERMILYE. 

CUYLER.  "      LATIIROP.  »      WILLIAMS.' 

"      M'CHNTOCK. 
1  vol.,  12mo.     Price  $1. 

The  publishers  believe  this  volume  will  have  an  immediate  and  permanent 
interest  and  a  large  sale  throughout  the  land. 

SELECT    DISCOURSES. 

Translated  from  the  French  and  German. 
Embracing  some  Twenty-five  of  the  choicest  Discourses  of  Adolphe  MonoO, 

Kruruniacher,  Tholuck,  and  Julius  Mailer. 
With  Dr.  Monod's  celebrated  Lecture  on  the  Delivery  of  Sermons, 

and  a  fine  Steel  Portrait  of  the  Author. 

By  Rev.  H.  C.  FISH,  and  D.  W.  POOR,  D.  D. 

1  vol.,  12mo,  about  400  pages.     Price  $1. 

THE  LIFE   AND    MISSION    OF    WOMEN. 

By  ADOLPHE  MONOD,  D.D. 
Translated  from  the  French.      In  one  handsome  volume,    12mo,    82  pagos. 

With  a  Portrait  from  Steel.     Price  50  cents. 

We  are  here  presented  with  the  ablest  and  most  practical  discussion  of  this 
great  subject  which  it  has  ever  received.  It  is  a  book  for  the  times,  and 
should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  mother  and  daughter. 

FOURTH    SERIES     OF    SERMONS    BY 
THE    REV.     C.     H.     SPURGE  ON. 

1  vol.,  12rao.     Price  $1. 

GLIMPSES    OF  JESUS,    EXALTED   IN   THE 
AFFECTIONS    OF  HIS   PEOPLE. 

By  Rev.  W.  P.  BALFERN,  of  En^laud. 
ISmo.,  260  pages.     Price  60  cents. 

This  Wxll  be  in  6"jrnfillfynr.  bnnlc  frvr  -uni-mor  rvyn-o-or+a  r\r\r\   innfiiinnr»  mi'virJa 


BOOKS  PUBLISHED  BY  SHELDON  &  COMPANY. 

HOME     LIFE. 

Twelve  brilliant  Lectures  on  the  Duties  and  Relations  of  the  Family  Circle. 
By  Rev.  WM.  HAGUE,  D.  D.     1  vol.,  12mo.  $1 ;  Gilt,  $1  25. 

THE   LIFE    OF    THOMAS    COLE,    N.A. 
"With  Selections  from  his  Letters  and  Miscellaneous  "Writings 

By  Rev.  Louis  L.  NOBLE. 
415  pages.     12mo.    Price  $1  00. 

MEMOIR    OF    THE   REV.    THOMAS    SPENCER. 

By  THOS.  RAFFLES,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  his  Successor  in  the  Pastoral  Office. 
With  an  Introduction  and  a  Steel  Portrait. 

1  vol.,  12mo.     Cloth,  63  cents. 

"Mr.  Spencer  was  a  preacher  and  an  Englishman,  and  at  the  early  age  of  tweoty  was 
promoted  to  the  responsible  charge  of  a  large  congregation,  where  his  eloquence  startled 
and  electrified  admiring  crowds,  who  thronged  from  all  quarters  to  catch  the  inspiration 
of  his  genius.  But  in  the  same  year  (the  twenty-first  of  his  age),  venturing  one  fatal 
Monday  morning  to  bathe  in  the  Mersey,  be  was  borne  down  the  current,  beyond  bis 
depth,  and  abruptly  hurried  into  eternity.  The  effect  of  his  youth,  his  genius,  his  extra 
ordinary  virtues,  and  his  sudden  death,  was,  of  course,  most  impressively  melancholy, 
and  his  memory,  from  that  day  to  this,  has  been  hallowed  in  the  affections  of  mankind. 
—Hudson  Democrat. 

THE  MEMOIR  OF  MRS.  HELEN  M.  MASON, 

Seventeen  Years  a  Missionary  in  Burmah. 

By  her  Husband,  Rev.  FRANCIS  MASON. 
16mo.     With  a  Portrait  and  several  beautiful  Engravings.     Price  60  cents. 

MEMOIR     OF    SARAH    B.    JUDSON. 

By  Mrs.  E.  C.  JUDSON. 
F«rty  Thousand  sold.     1  vol.,  18mo.     300  pages.     Cloth,  60  cents; 

Cloth,  gilt  edge,  $1  00. 

"  Rarely  have  we  read  a  more  beautiful  sketch  of  female  loveliness,  devoted  piety,  mls- 
Btonary  zeal,  fortitude,  sacrifice,  and  success,  than  is  here  drawn  by  a  pen  that  is  well 
known  to  the  reading  world.  We  trust  its  wide  perusal  will  awaken  the  mission  spirit 
In  the  hearts  of  thousands."— New  York  Observer. 

THE   JUDSON    OFFERING. 

Intended  as  a  Token  of  Christian  Sympathy  with  the  Living,  and  a  Memento 

of  Christian  Affection  for  the  Dead. 

By  Rev.  JOHN  BOWLING,  D.  D.,  Author  of  "  History  of  Romanism,"  etc. 
Twentieth  edition.     18mo.     60  cents. 

LIFE    OF    SPENCER    H.    CONE,    D.D. 

With  a  fine   Steel   Plate  Portrait 

1  vol.,  12mo.    Price  $1  25. 

M  America  has  produced  but  few  so  popular  preachers ;  his  personal  interest  w-as  un 
bounded;  he  was  indeed  a  man  of  talent,  of  large  attainment  in  the  school  of  Christ,  a 
brilliant  preacher,  a  noble-hearted,  zealous  Christian  philanthropist. "—Chnsttan  Lhron>- 
icl6  Philadelphia. 


UNIVERSITY  OF 

This  book  is 
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CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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JUN 


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DEC    9  1957 


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AN  1  I  1966     5 
REC'D 


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&  i)  1377 

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YB  29557 


£3- 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


